The Seven Year Wait
by Atuliel
Summary: Abandoned WIP. AU. Snanger Danger. Hermione takes a look into the Mirror of Erised and finds something, or someone, she didn't quite expect.
1. First Year

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this.

**A/N:** Although this story starts in first year, Severus does _not_ have feelings for Hermione until I say he does. This is about Hermione's journey, not his, and he is not a pedophile.

* * *

It was only two days before their first year at Hogwarts was over, which meant it was now or never.

Hermione wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her robes while McGonagall led her to Dumbledore's office. She hoped he would let her see it. She just wanted to look into it, just once, so she could see what she had to strive for in life. She knew she wanted to be a great witch and student, succeed in school and all that, but what about after that? What did her heart truly want? She hoped the answer lay in the Mirror of Erised. Although Harry and Ron's visions hadn't exactly been promising—Harry's was downright impossible—at least she would know.

Hermione mentally reviewed the speech she'd come up with to convince the Headmaster to let her see it—for at least the tenth time that morning. Perhaps the wording was too strong…or perhaps he wouldn't like her insistence that Harry and Ron had gotten to see it, so it was only fair. She thought about taking that part out, but they were already standing at the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office.

McGonagall patted her on the shoulder and gave her a comforting smile, then turned to the gargoyle.

"Sugar babies," she told it, an annoyed quirk on her lips.

Hermione swallowed an amused grin and stepped past the gargoyle when it moved aside. She knocked on the inner door and, when she heard Dumbledore's voice call for her to enter, braced herself and stepped inside. The Headmaster looked up from his desk and smiled at her, looking almost grandfatherly. The butterflies in Hermione's stomach calmed a bit at this.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. Professor McGonagall told me you wished to see me," he said kindly. "Please, take a seat. Would you like a lemon drop?"

She slid into the chair across from him, stretching her legs in an attempt to meet the floor with her feet.

"No, thank you, sir."

Dumbledore smiled and took one for himself, then slid the paper he'd been reading back into its envelope.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, sir," Hermione said anxiously, rubbing her hands on her robes again.

"No, no. Just some ridiculous Ministry business, I assure you." Dumbledore winked. "Nothing to worry yourself about. Now, what was it you wished to see me about?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, sir, I wanted to ask permission to look into the Mirror of Erised." She watched his eyes widen and hurried on. "I realize it's a serious request, but I do have my reasons for wanting to see it."

"And what are those, Miss Granger?" he asked, leaning back in his chair while eyeing her with a curious air.

She hurriedly reached into her pocket for the list of reasons she had drawn up the night before. In her excitement, she nearly dropped it to the floor, but caught it just as it was falling from her grasp. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling with amusement.

"First of all, I want to see what my deepest desire truly is," she explained, reading off her list. "I know what I want for the present, but I don't have any current lifetime goals. While the Mirror may not give me this, it is worth a try. Second, I have read much about the Mirror and have helped Harry in his quest to keep the Sorcerer's Stone out of You-Know-Who's hands, but wasn't ever able to see it. Naturally, I'm curious about how it works and would like to be able to see it up close.

"Thirdly, both Harry and Ron _were_ able to see it, while I was unable to due to certain circumstances which—"

"I see your points, Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted, sitting up again.

Hermione sputtered. She hadn't quite finished, and she wasn't expecting his rejection of her request to come so soon.

"However, I must caution you, as I cautioned Harry," he said intently, never breaking eye contact. "The Mirror can show you wonderful things, but those same wonders can keep even the strongest of men—and women—locked to it. You must remember that knowing what you want should not keep you from living."

She nodded hastily, stuffing her list in her pockets again. "Of course, I understand, sir. But I promise I wouldn't stay there wishing I had what I wanted. I want to use the Mirror to help me understand what I want, and get it."

Dumbledore considered her for a long moment, and she thought he was going to say no. But then he stood and stepped around the desk, looking down at her with a benevolent, but small, smile.

"You make a convincing argument, Miss Granger," he told her, then paused. "I will let you see the Mirror." She leapt to her feet, but he held up a finger. "Just this once. And I will hold you to your promise."

Hermione nodded rapidly, grinning. "Thank you, Headmaster."

He smiled and waved for her to follow him. She could barely contain the bounce in her step as she was led through his office and a door she hadn't noticed there before. There was a very narrow hallway on the other side, barely wide enough to let the door swing open. She made sure to shut it behind them when he turned to look at her, and then rushed to keep up.

Eventually the hallway ended and Dumbledore opened the door at the very end of it, after waving his wand and muttering an incantation. He let her inside and shut the door behind them, and there it was. Hermione fought the smile threatening to spread across her cheeks as she walked closer to the Mirror. It was the only thing in the room, which made it seem larger. She swallowed back her nervousness and glanced at Dumbledore for support. He smiled, and she went on.

When Hermione stepped up, directly in front of it, the image changed from her bushy-haired, bucktoothed young self in that dimly lit room with the much older Headmaster far in the background. Her eyes widened as she saw herself in what appeared to be a Potions lab, only she wasn't exactly herself. For one, she was older—a lot older, but still in school, apparently, since she still had on her Gryffindor robes. And there was a patch on her robe bearing an "H"—for Head Girl. She beamed excitedly at her older self.

Her older self smiled back down at her. She was taller, and although her posture was still mostly the same, she seemed more self-confident and elegant than she was as a child. Her neck was longer, it looked like and her hair was actually pretty tame. Not completely, but mostly—which she had counted on. She didn't want her hair to be _totally_ flat and lifeless. Her cheeks had lost all their baby fat and her buckteeth were gone. And she had…breasts!

Hermione almost blushed as she realized that she was, in fact, a young woman in the Mirror. So, apparently she wanted to be grown up, be Head Girl, have tamer hair, no buckteeth, and perhaps be a Potions apprentice? She was mostly pleased with this image, and was about to turn away, when she saw movement behind her older self.

Someone in dark robes swept up behind her and Hermione whipped around, but there was only Dumbledore, who was still by the door. She looked back at the image and watched as the person came into view—Professor Snape?! Sure enough, her impressive Potions professor moved up behind her older self and wrapped her in an intimate hug from behind. The older Hermione smiled and leaned back for a kiss, which he eagerly bestowed on her.

Hermione was frozen in place. On the one hand, she was a bit horrified. This was her _professor_! On the other, she was delighted. From day one, Professor Snape's intensity and power had drawn her in. After becoming friends with Harry and Ron, she'd actually been a bit ashamed to admit to herself that she had a crush on him. But she hadn't thought the feelings went this deep!

It sort of made sense, though, she reflected. She'd want to be older so that Professor Snape would see her in a different light, and so that they could be together.

Hermione shook her head rapidly of the thoughts and turned away from the Mirror. This was just too weird!

"I take it you saw something you weren't quite expecting?" Dumbledore prompted from the door.

Hermione jumped. She'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Um…yes. I…I think I'm ready to go back now, sir," she told him, glancing back at the Mirror briefly to find her older self still locked in Professor Snape's embrace.

She turned back to Dumbledore and nodded once to emphasize her readiness to be away from this image of her deepest desire. It simply wasn't possible, she told herself as he led her back through that narrow hallway. It wasn't possible that Professor Snape was what she wanted most. Sure, she had a crush on him, but it was a _crush_. She hadn't fallen in love. Had she?

The Mirror of Erised was broken, Hermione decided. She thought about saying as much to Dumbledore, but then she probably would've had to explain her reasoning—and what had happened in the Mirror was going to the grave with her. She hurried out of his office as soon as possible and headed back to the common room, where Ron and Harry were waiting for her, playing a game of Exploding Snap.

Hermione sank onto the couch, barely processing their greetings. Her eyes were glued to middle space as she tried to think this through. How could the Mirror of Erised be broken? Maybe it actually showed superficial wants, and everyone just thought it showed the deepest desires of a person's heart. Harry wanting his parents back wasn't exactly superficial…but maybe he just wanted it all the time. _That could be_, she supposed. _Right?_

"Earth to Hermione!" Ron suddenly called up to her from the floor.

She nearly leapt out of her skin for the second time that day. "Oh, hi, Ron. Harry." They stared at her, so she asked, "Did you say something?"

"Yeah! We only asked how it went with Dumbledore about a million times!" Ron cried exasperatedly.

"Oh." Hermione winced. "Sorry. I was just…thinking."

"How _did_ it go?" Harry asked, much quieter than Ron.

"Um…good. He let me see it," she said, nodding to herself.

"That's great," he replied, smiling.

"What did _you_ see?" Ron inquired interestedly.

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. There was no reason not to tell them except one—they would hate her. Forever and ever and ever. And as much as a blessing that would be in Ron's case—maybe he would just go away—it wouldn't be one in Harry's. Hermione officially reaffirmed her decision to carry this secret to the grave.

"I can't tell you," she said decidedly.

"What? We told you ours!" Ron protested, pouting at her.

"I know, but…well, a girl's heart is very private," Hermione said slowly, recalling something her mother used to tell her. "It's like a safe, and only the one man with the key can open it and find out what's inside."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said flatly.

"Figures," she said simply, shrugging. "I'm off to bed."

"It's almost time for lunch, Hermione," Harry reminded her.

She froze, frowning. "Oh. Well, then I'm off to study for a while, and I'll come down for lunch when it's…time."

Hermione whipped away and flounced up the stairs, hoping that the half hour of time for them to do whatever boys did when girls weren't around would banish the thought of her Mirror image from their minds. She was certainly hoping a grueling study session would banish it from hers.

The boys watched Hermione run away as though the devil were on her tail and exchanged a look.

"I swear. She gets weirder and weirder every day!" Ron told Harry, shaking his head.

"She's a girl, Ron," he reminded him, shrugging. "They're _all_ weird. But I think, in this case, there's something she doesn't want us to find out. About what she saw in the Mirror."

"What about that whole…key…safe…private mumbo jumbo?" he asked, frowning in thought as he tried to remember Hermione's exact words.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. She's keeping it private—she's keeping a secret," Harry replied. "It's strange."

"What's so strange about it?"

"She usually doesn't keep secrets. She's usually open." Harry met Ron's doubtful gaze. "Well, at least with me she is. But then again, _I've_ stopped being mean to her."

"I'm not mean! I'm just…." He searched for words fruitlessly, gesturing in vain. "I'm…callous."

Harry blinked. "That's the same thing."

"_That's_ what that means?!" Ron folded his arms, glaring up the stairs after Hermione. "She has _got_ to stop using big words like that."

Harry shook his head in amusement. "Maybe you just shouldn't repeat them until you know what they mean."

Ron shrugged. "So…we going to try to find out what she saw?"

"Why should we? If she wanted us to know, she'd tell us," Harry replied, eyes going back to their game. "Besides, whatever it was couldn't be _that_ bad. Hermione's practically got a heart of gold."


	2. Third Year

**Disclaimer:** I still own nothing.

**A/N:** I forgot to mention that I'll be updating this once a week, every Monday. I appreciate all the feedback I got—I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying this so far.

* * *

Hermione slid into the trunk with ease, having successfully traversed Professor Lupin's course thus far. There was certain to be a boggart inside the small space, but it hadn't shown up just yet. She kept her wand out, feeling prepared for just about anything. After all, after gazing into the Mirror of Erised to find herself with Professor Snape, what could possibly surprise her now?

She cursed mentally and told herself to stop thinking of that blasted vision. It had been nearly two years now, and she still couldn't get it out of her mind. True, she was still working toward the other things she'd seen—her teeth were pretty much a lost cause, but her hair was getting gradually better—but it was unnecessary to think about how Professor Snape had tucked her into his arms, head resting over her shoulder.

This year had proved to her more than any other so far that Professor Snape was unaware of her existence, much less her status as a human being. And when he _was_ aware, for the fraction of a second he might be, he hated her. A lot.

There was a stirring to her left and Hermione was startled to find the boggart had chosen the form of Harry and Ron. She frowned at them, briefly puzzled by this. She wasn't _scared_ of Harry and Ron….

"I can't believe you could love that thing," Harry suddenly spat.

"You disgust me," Ron added. "How could you love someone who hates us?"

"It's sickening! I can't even stand to look at you!"

Hermione was frozen. She'd half-raised her wand to turn them into something ridiculous, as Professor Lupin had taught them, but she couldn't think of anything. In fact, the only thing she could think was the repetition of the hateful words her best friends were shooting at her. The echo of the words made her head start to pound and tears threatened at her eyes.

"Get out of our sight!" Ron roared, making a move at her.

Harry sneered at her. "We don't ever want to see you again! You, _or_ your precious Snivellus!"

Hermione burst from the trunk, crying out. She was met with the startled faces of Harry, Ron, and Professor Lupin. For a moment, her body urged her to run at the sight of the boys, but their looks of shock reminded her that it was only a boggart—not the real Harry and Ron.

"Hermione! What's the matter?" Professor Lupin asked, looking worried.

Her mind raced. She had to come up with something! Then Ron's distant voice popped into her head and she could've almost hugged him for his rude comment earlier in the year.

"P-Professor McGonagall! Sh-she said I'd failed everything!" she exclaimed, pointing back into the trunk.

Ron laughed. Harry patted her shoulder. Professor Lupin frowned suspiciously at her.

"It was just a boggart, Hermione," Harry assured her. "You didn't fail everything, all right?"

"Bu-but she said!" she sputtered.

"We haven't even taken all our exams yet," he reminded her, shaking his head. "You can't have failed everything. Besides, you're the best student in our classes! You've been studying for weeks! You didn't fail."

"But I—Professor McGonagall said I did! I failed!" Hermione sobbed, setting free the tears that had been threatening to spill out. "I'll be held back! I'll be expelled! I'm-I'm—"

Ron was still laughing, even though Harry was nudging him. Professor Lupin had his hands stuffed in his pockets, like he wasn't sure what to do. Through the blurry tears, she could see his expression turning from suspicion to confusion. Fear tightened her stomach—did he know?

Eventually, Hermione let her tears abate and regained her bearings. Harry patted her shoulder again and Ron smothered yet another snicker.

"Come on. We've got to get to our exams," Harry said, hurrying off with Ron.

"Um…I'll catch up," she called when they stopped to see if she was coming.

The boys shrugged and ran off, so she turned to Professor Lupin, who was considering her silently. Hermione stepped closer, taking deep breaths in order to maintain her control. If she suggested there was anything amiss and he didn't know…well, she'd have some trouble coming her way.

"Um…Professor?" she began, barely finding the strength to meet his eyes.

He tilted his head toward her. "Yes, Hermione?"

"C-can you see…? That is, do you know…?" She stared at him miserably, hoping he'd catch on. "Did you—"

"Yes, I know what my students see in the trunk," Professor Lupin replied kindly. "I have to, to be sure that I can help them in time should anything happen."

Hermione swallowed, staring at her feet. He sighed and continued after a tense moment.

"I couldn't figure out why you would lie to your best friends, but I suppose that loving Sev—"

"You can't tell anyone!" she said so fiercely he practically stopped breathing. "If you do, I swear to whatever deity is out there that I will spill _your_ secret to everyone from Colin Creevey to Cornelius Fudge!"

Professor Lupin was staring at her like he'd never seen her before. Of course, she reflected, she'd never blackmailed or threatened him before, either. Come to think of it, she hadn't actually blackmailed or threatened practically _anyone_ before. It was kind of exhilarating—but not in a good way.

Hermione could feel the seeds of guilt starting to spread in her mind, but she kept her determined expression. No matter how guilty she felt, Lupin could _not_ let this little bit of information slip. It, like the Mirror of Erised, had to go to the grave with her, and now with her professor.

"I promise, Hermione," Professor Lupin said softly. "If it's that important to you, I won't tell anyone."

"Well…good." She shifted awkwardly. "And thanks. Um…I'm sorry."

Then she bolted away to try to catch Ron and Harry.

* * *

Harry watched Hermione slump on the table across from him, arms folded and chin resting on them. She'd shoved her meal aside and it was now being devoured by Ron, who seemed unconcerned with their friend's lack of appetite. Harry, however, was growing steadily more and more concerned with Hermione's behavior. He could tell that she'd been happy to help him set free Sirius, but ever since that night, she'd been acting depressed.

He supposed it could've been because she was sad about having to leave Hogwarts again, but the last two years hadn't rendered her so sad she couldn't eat. Harry glanced at Ron, trying to get him to be a little less sloppy about his eating, since he knew it bothered Hermione. He finally caught his friend's eyes and jerked his head toward Hermione.

Ron blinked. "What?"

Hermione didn't even flinch, even though Ron had an entire mouthful of food when he said it. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Never mind."

Ron shrugged and went back to stuffing his face. Harry shook his head again and turned his attention back to Hermione. In a few days, he wouldn't be able to lift up her mood anymore, so he had to act quickly.

"Hermione," he said softly.

Her eyes were trained on the wood table, and she didn't even seem to notice that he was calling for her attention. He slid his hand across the table, tapping her arm lightly. Hermione jumped and looked from his hand to him, drawing herself up in her seat.

"Sorry," she mumbled, glancing at the two plates of food Ron had. "Didn't I have food?" she asked, blinking.

"You told him he could have it," Harry reminded her, frowning.

"I did?" Her brow knit together. "Oh."

He took a deep breath. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"What? Yeah! I-I'm fine, Harry. Just fine," she replied, gradually trailing off.

"You don't _seem_ fine." He tried to lighten the mood with a smile. "I haven't heard you talk about going to the library all day."

That only seemed to depress her more.

"I guess I should return the books I borrowed before—"

"Hermione, I was kidding," he interrupted, before she could start freaking out. "I just meant that you seem a little down. You got almost all Outstanding marks, besides Defense Against the Dark Arts. And hey, that was understandable—you didn't know what to expect from the boggart."

She shook her head, keeping her eyes averted. "That's not it…. I just…I suppose I'm just a little tired. The Time-Turner takes a lot out of you."

"Yeah, I noticed that," he agreed, though he could tell that wasn't the truth of what was bothering her.

Hermione sighed and got to her feet, apparently not in the mood for discussion.

"I'm going to go back to the dorms and rest for a while," she explained when both boys looked at her with puzzled eyes. "I'll see you later."

Ron gave Harry a long-suffering look. "She's giving me déjà vu."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"She did this two years ago, remember? After she saw the Mirror of Erised, she ran up to her room like You-Know-Who himself was chasing her," he replied, shaking his head and stuffing another forkful of food in his mouth.

Harry's frown deepened. That was true…maybe there was something more she wasn't telling them, besides about the Time-Turner.

* * *

Hermione's feet had a mind of their own. Rather than bringing her up to the girls' dormitory for a nice, quiet nap, she found herself heading down the stairs, to the dungeons. Professor Snape had been at lunch earlier, but he'd left before she did, so she was fairly certain he would be in his classroom. Or at least in his office.

A part of her knew she shouldn't be going down there. He would certainly throw her out. But the other part was desperate to see him and to thank him for what he'd done for them. Ever since the night they'd saved Sirius, Professor Snape's anger and frustration had stuck with her. She still remembered the hatred on his face when he'd yelled at her and Harry; the crackling energy in his eyes and the heat of his power had frightened her more than anything else that night.

Yet Hermione still couldn't keep herself from him. She had to accept that Professor Snape mattered to her, she realized, or else she'd never have any peace of mind.

She was at his office door, which was odd, because she'd thought she'd been going to his classroom. Hermione shook herself of the thought and braced herself, knocking twice on his door.

"Enter," a voice snarled from the other side.

She sighed. He was still in a bad mood. After hesitating a long moment, Hermione pushed open the door and peered inside. Professor Snape was standing at his desk, pouring a brown potion into a much smaller vial. She sniffed and stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Is that a Hangover Potion?" she asked, shocked.

Professor Snape's eyes shot to her, as though he'd just realized she was there. His scowl deepened—if that was possible—and he slammed the sample of the potion down on his desk, making her jump.

"Actually, it's called a Hangover-Cure Solution. I thought you knew it _all_," he sneered nastily.

She hugged herself and frowned back at him. "I never claimed to know everything," she muttered. "However, I feel compelled to point out that it won't do any good, considering that you seem to have used too much powdered shrivelfig."

His eyes snapped. "How would you know?" he demanded, his voice closer to the mad bellow she'd heard the night of Sirius' escape.

She pointed at the vial. "It's supposed to have bubbles in it, and it doesn't."

He looked down at the vial and cursed. Her cheeks went pink at the colorful word he'd used and she avoided his eyes when he leveled a cold glare in her direction.

"Was there something you wanted, Miss Granger?" he snapped at last.

"I…I wanted to apologize for what happened the other night," she said bravely, though she still couldn't bring herself to face him head-on. "In the Shrieking Shack and all. And I also wanted to thank you for taking us all back to Hogwarts, and for telling the Minister about the Confundus Charm."

He snorted. "You weren't Confunded."

"I know that!" she snapped back, losing her patience. "But we all could've been in serious trouble if you hadn't said that we were, so…." She trailed off, losing her nerve.

His expression changed from fury to something unreadable. Hermione shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty now for her outburst. Finally, the silence became too oppressive.

"Anyway. Thank you."

She nodded, almost to herself, and turned away.

"Miss Granger, I find myself unable to see with my usual acuity. Perhaps you can reward me for my patience in suffering your presence by brewing me a _correct_ Hangover-Cure Solution."

She turned around with a grin; he was scowling again, but it hardly mattered.

"Of course, sir."

Hermione brewed and bottled the potion for him. Professor Snape spent most of the time with his head on his desk, dead to the world. She wondered exactly how much he'd had to drink, and then decided she didn't care to know.

"Professor?"

He woke enough to grunt at her and acknowledge the vial.

"Perhaps you should drink that now, Professor."

He reluctantly dragged himself into a sitting position, swallowed the contents of the vial, and laid his head back down. Hermione fought to keep a smile off her face and silently slipped out. As an afterthought, she put a ward on the door to alert him if anyone came by.


	3. Fourth Year

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing at all.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey patted Hermione's back comfortingly as she explained how the potion would work. The woman seemed confident that it would fix her teeth, but seemed uncertain of how to get Hermione to stop crying. She couldn't help herself—Professor Snape's vicious words, more than the hex itself, were what had gotten to her. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she cared what the malicious bastard thought. It hurt to know that he considered her appearance revolting.

Granted, Hermione wasn't so selfish as to think she was gorgeous, but she didn't think she was actually _ugly_. Just plain. And the man whose opinion mattered most to her thought she was worse than plain. She—with great difficulty around her elongated teeth—cursed those stupid teeth she'd been trying to fix for three years, and her stupid frizzy hair, and she was just about to go on cursing things about herself when Madam Pomfrey wrapped her in a hug.

"Now, Miss Granger," she said in that no-nonsense manner she had, "no more of that from you. I want you to always remember, no matter what anyone says, that you are a beautiful, intelligent young woman, and you deserve better treatment than this."

In that moment, Madam Pomfrey reminded Hermione of her mother, and she couldn't help but smile through her tears. Madam Pomfrey petted her hair once and stood back.

"That's a good girl," she said approvingly, when she saw the small smile. "No more tears from you over this silly incident, all right?"

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath. _You're right_, she thought, frowning as she thought of the cold scowl on her Potions professor's face. _What do I care if that miserable ponce thinks me unsightly? I'll show him a difference!_ She took the potion from Madam Pomfrey and marched out of the hospital wing, intent on giving that greasy prat something to notice.

* * *

Harry's reaction to Hermione's now-normal sized teeth was unsatisfactory. It did nothing to sate the burning need for someone to notice in her, and she quickly realized that it wouldn't be satisfied until Professor Snape saw it. So it was with great eagerness that she dragged Harry to their Potions class. He was grumbling the entire way, and she didn't catch all of it, but she thought it was something about Potions being pointless when he was going to die in the First Task anyway.

As soon as Hermione plopped down in her seat, Professor Snape's eyes shot from whatever he was writing to her, probably out of annoyance with how much noise she'd made in her entrance. That didn't really matter, though. What mattered was that she had caught his gaze, and she used the opportunity to flash her teeth at him. He gave her a look that she could only assume was puzzled and went back to writing.

But Hermione didn't give up. Throughout the class period, she kept flashing those teeth at him. He would walk around to look into Harry and her potion and she would look up, show her teeth, and go back to mixing as though nothing had happened. He would look up from his desk, she would catch his eyes, then show her teeth again, and go back to teaching Harry how to crush the ingredients properly. Each and every time, Professor Snape would give her that puzzled look and then go back to what he was doing.

The class period was ending and he announced the homework, so Hermione began gathering her things with the rest of the class, but then she heard his deep voice ring through the classroom again.

"Miss Granger, see me after class," Professor Snape hissed, shooting her a glare before turning away to keep collecting samples from students.

Harry met her eyes. "You want me to hang around, or…?"

"No, it's okay. I'll catch up with you later," she assured him, smiling briefly.

He seemed hesitant to leave, but he obeyed and headed out the door. The last of the students filtered out after him and Hermione turned to face her professor. He stood by his desk, arms folded in that way that made him look even more intimidating than he already did. She steeled herself and approached him, stopping only when she could plainly see the annoyance in his cool black eyes.

Professor Snape stood up straight and looked down at her, irritation coming off of him in waves.

"Yes, I see that your teeth are no longer the size of a walrus', Miss Granger," he said silkily, never breaking eye contact. "Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

Hermione blinked, a bit startled. She wasn't expecting him to address it so upfront. Okay, so she didn't know _what_ she was expecting when he asked her to stay after, but still.

"No, sir," she said after a long moment of staring up into his unyielding gaze.

When he only sneered at her, Hermione dropped her gaze and turned to go.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to leave yet, Miss Granger," he purred, making her freeze in place.

She turned slowly. "I wasn't aware there was anything further you wished to say."

"Child," he snarled nastily. "Just the same as your little friends, ever the same arrogance and disrespect."

"Perhaps if you were a little less rude and a little more understanding, we wouldn't be so disrespectful!" Hermione blurted, realizing her mistake only seconds later.

Professor Snape descended the steps and towered over her, glowering down at her with no small amount of hatred. Hermione avoided his eyes, training her eyes on a spot on the other side of the room. She was breathing heavily, and she could _feel_ him standing over her. The long silence gave her a chance to think a moment.

Why _was_ she so infatuated with this man who insulted and ignored her? What was it about him that drew her in so? Perhaps it was his presence—that powerful presence that left her hanging onto his every word. Or perhaps it was his voice—that gorgeously deep, silky voice that spread goose bumps over her skin. Or maybe it was how brilliant he was. She wasn't sure, but she _was_ sure that if he didn't step away soon, he'd have a student snogging him into next week.

"Is that so, Miss Granger?" Professor Snape murmured at last. "Then perhaps you can teach me to be a bit more understanding…in detention on Monday."

He rose up and sneered at her when she looked at him in disbelief. Then he swept away and went back to his desk, ignoring that she had stomped up to it in protest.

"I didn't do anything!" she exclaimed, watching his eyes snap to her again.

"Would you rather have a points deduction, Miss Granger?" he replied, seeming unfazed by her indignation.

Hermione grit her teeth and shook her head, biting down hard on a crude remark.

"Then be here at seven, on Monday." He promptly went back to grading essays. "You are free to go, Miss Granger."

She ground her teeth together, glaring daggers at him, and dug her heel into the ground as she left. There was definitely no reasonable explanation for her crush on this man.

* * *

And because of that, there was no reason she should keep it, Hermione decided Monday afternoon, during Arithmancy. She'd already finished the assignment and checked it over twice, so she felt safe in letting her mind wander. If she couldn't find a good enough reason to like him, then she would just have to get over it. A little voice in the back of her mind whispered that she had already tried getting over it—multiple times, in fact—and it hadn't worked so far. So why should it work now?

Hermione scowled and twirled her quill in her fingers. She remembered reading something about a potion that could help send feelings away, but she couldn't remember exactly which book she'd found it in. She glanced around and saw Lisa Turpin flipping through an edition of _Witch Weekly_, and then the light bulb went on.

She had read it in an article a few weeks ago, after Lavender shoved the magazine in her face insisting that she _needed_ to read an article on proper make-up application. Hermione, of course, skimmed just enough of it to convince Lavender she'd read it. She spent the rest of the time she borrowed it looking through the magical tips and miscellaneous intellectual articles that, unsurprisingly, had been untouched by Lavender.

That was it—she'd just have to convince Lavender she had a burning desire to look at that article again, get it back, and make the potion! Hermione's excitement came to a screeching halt when she realized that the First Task was coming—and soon. Harry would need all the help he could get, and how much help would she be if she was busy worrying about her own problems?

The little voice whispered that it would just be one night, and Harry could live without her for one evening. Besides, she was already going to detention in Professor Snape's room, so she would be gone anyway.

Determined now, Hermione left Arithmancy with the rest of the students and hurried to where Lavender would be coming out of Divination. Some of the other students saw her charging up the stairs and snickered, making snide comments about how they never thought they'd see her running _toward_ Divination class. She ignored them and hunted down the blond head of hair.

"Lavender!" Hermione called as soon as the girl was in view.

"Oh, hi, Hermione. How was—"

"It was fine. Listen, do you still have that edition of _Witch Weekly_ you borrowed me a couple weeks ago?" she asked urgently.

Harry waved at her as he came down the stairs and waited behind her while she spoke with the girl.

"The one with the article about charms that can flatten your hair?" Lavender asked obliviously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No."

"The one with the thing about a woman's prime sexual years?" she guessed.

She blinked. "Lavender…ew. And no. The one about makeup application."

"Oh!" Lavender smiled triumphantly, as though she'd figured it out and hadn't had the answer handed to her. "Yeah, I still have it."

Hermione swallowed her pride—deep, deep down—and put on an innocent face. She hugged her books to her chest and leaned in conspiratorially, like she'd seen the other girls do when they were whispering about boys. She knew Harry was waiting, but she couldn't mess this up. Lavender might not give it to her if she thought she was just going to use it to brew a potion or something (gasp) academic.

"Could I borrow it again?" she asked, lowering her voice. "See, there's this Durmstrang boy—"

"Oh, Hermione!" Lavender squealed, wrapping her in a brief, and incredibly tight, hug. "What's his name?!"

Hermione stopped herself mid-roll of the eyes and tried to look bashful. It took her a moment to think of one—then she remembered hearing some girls in the bathroom talking about their crushes.

"Sergei," she said quietly, trying to put an infatuated tone into her voice.

_Close enough_, she thought when Lavender squealed again. She counted herself lucky when she realized that Lavender didn't read the _Daily Prophet_—not even Rita Skeeter's articles, which was something Hermione thought the girl would thrive on.

"Oh, this is so exciting!" the blond stage-whispered excitedly.

Before Lavender could pump her for more answers, Hermione put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in closer, as though to whisper something confidential. Lavender sobered a little and almost looked…studious, for a flicker of a second, as she put on her listening ears.

"The other day, I saw him in the library and I was so embarrassed," Hermione lied, hoping her story was coming off. "I mean, look at me! So I did some thinking about how I could improve my appearance and then I thought, 'Duh! Lavender!' So I was hoping I could borrow that edition so I can increase my skill with eyeliner." She smiled to add to the effect.

"Well, of course! I'll get it right away!" Lavender exclaimed, hurrying past Hermione. Then she stopped and turned. "This is so exciting! Our Hermione!"

She giggled and ran off, and Hermione let loose the scowl and roll of her eyes she'd been holding in—it was almost becoming painful.

"What was _that_ all about?" Harry asked, watching the retreating hurricane of hormones.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said innocently, starting down the steps. "Just a little experiment."

"You mean to tell me that _Lavender_ is helping you with an experiment and she's…_excited_ about it?" he said skeptically, matching her pace as they descended.

She thought about that for a moment. "She's excited because she doesn't know she's helping."

He stared at her blankly. "…Huh?"

She chuckled. "Never mind. It's not important. Besides, you've got bigger things to worry about."

Harry groaned like his stomach hurt. "Don't remind me. With my name coming out of the Goblet, plus them letting me compete, and then, to top it all off, that stupid article Skeeter printed about us…life is just hell. _And_ I don't even know what the First Task is. How am I supposed to prepare if I don't know what it is?"

Hermione suddenly felt really guilty for worrying about her stupid little crush when Harry was a week away from facing whatever the Ministry decided to torture the champions with.

* * *

Hermione retrieved the _Witch Weekly_ edition she needed from Lavender in the common room and then gathered the ingredients she would need in the dorm. After assuring Harry that she would join him at dinner later, she found an empty classroom, warded herself in, and got to work. The potion didn't take very long to brew, luckily, but there were some tricky parts to it.

While she stirred the pale red liquid counterclockwise, as the directions said, Hermione's mind began to wander back to Harry and his task. What could the tasks entail? She had read up on the Triwizard Tournament after Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, and, frankly, she could see why they'd stopped having them. She didn't like the idea of Harry going into this with no idea of what was going to happen, but the tasks were totally random back when the Tournament was still held, so they would be now, as well.

The only thing she could think to do was help Harry prepare with some training sessions. If he was caught up and on top of the spells they knew, then perhaps he would be able to face whatever it would be. Defense spells would probably be in his best interest, she reflected.

Hermione stopped stirring when she realized she'd let her mind drift and looked down the list of directions once more. Hurriedly, she dropped in a bit of ground fluxweed and stirred again, this time clockwise. In her distracted rush, she slipped in Jobberknoll feathers, instead of hellebore. She stirred it in, and when it was finally finished, she poured the recommended amount into a test tube.

After examining it one last time, Hermione swung her head back and downed the potion. She put more samples in two more test tubes, just in case, and poured the rest down the drain in the bathroom. She ran back to her dorm to tuck away the ingredients—she kept them for emergencies, in case she, Harry, and Ron ever had another urgent need to make a potion. Ron had borrowed some of her ingredients for his homework the week before, with much grumbling about how she probably let Harry "the cheat" use them all the time when she hesitated.

Hermione rolled her eyes even as she sat down next to Harry at dinner. How Harry and Ron would get over this fight, she didn't know, but she _did_ know she was growing quickly tired of their sullen attitudes. Having her head bitten off by both of them every time she tried to help wasn't exactly putting her in the mood to hang around them, either. Harry realized this a lot quicker than Ron.

Harry gave her a friendly greeting and scooted over a little when she sat down. She smiled at him and started eating right away, using it as a distraction when Harry started talking about Quidditch—again. If there was one reason she wanted Harry and Ron to make up, it was this. She didn't know how many more conversations revolving around Quidditch she could take. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

_Wait. No, it doesn't._ Hermione groaned as she stared down at the juicy brown meat on the end of her fork. Her stomach lurched and she set down her fork quickly, then held her head. She was starting to feel a little…woozy. Harry put his hand on her shoulder as they left the Great Hall.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked, ducking his head to catch her eyes.

She pressed her hand to her stomach. "Yeah, Harry. Fine. Um…I have to go to detention."

"Do you want me to wait for you in the common room or the library?"

"Yeah. That's fine," she muttered as she wandered down the stairs.

Hermione heard him call after her, but she kept going. She was really starting to feel as though she needed the lav. The trek to the dungeons felt like it was taking longer than usual, and she was starting to wonder if she'd gotten lost somehow when she found the classroom door. She knocked a couple times.

"Enter."

She pushed the door open with effort and swung it shut behind her before heading toward his desk. Professor Snape was bent far over a parchment on his desk, scanning it so closely his nose almost touched the paper. She wondered briefly if he was reading Harry's paper—Harry's handwriting was very small.

"I'm here, sir," Hermione said tiredly.

He didn't answer until he was finished reading, so she took the time to look around the room. Without so many students inside and so many potions brewing, the room seemed cold and empty. He probably liked it that way, considering how wretchedly miserable he seemed to like to be…and to make everyone else. The highest functioning parts of her brain perked up at this and she smiled a little. Maybe the potion was working after all.

Her small smile turned to a glare when Professor Snape looked up at her with a sneer.

"Miss Granger," he said, tilting his head toward a pile of dirty cauldrons in a corner of the room. "You're to clean all of them without using magic. You may leave when I've approved them."

Hermione scowled and turned on her heel, grumbling to herself. Her stomach still hurt. She was pretty sure it was his fault. She picked up the first cauldron and the bucket of soapy water he'd set nearby, then started scrubbing at the green grime viciously. It was sweaty work, and her pounding head and aching stomach weren't helping matters. The world seemed to rock in front of her when she bent to pick up another cauldron and she braced herself on the wall. _Stop doing that_, she scolded the earth.

"What's that, Miss Granger?" Professor Snape snapped.

Hermione cursed mentally. Had she said that out loud?

"N-nothing, sir," she managed when she finally turned to face him.

He sneered and went back to grading. She heaved a sigh and turned to pick up a cauldron again, when she heard someone who sounded an awful lot like her saying something.

"You merciless old bat."

This time she heard him slam his quill down.

"Miss Granger, I thought you would have figured out the reason you are serving this detention by now," he hissed viciously, sending shivers up her spine. "Ten points from Gryffindor for disrespect to a teacher."

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I didn't—"

He waved a hand at her dismissively and Hermione huffed, whirling again. She picked up the cauldron and set it on the desk she was using to clean. Professor Snape was still grading and she found herself wondering how he could flip his switch like that. One minute he knew she was there and hated her guts. The next minute it was like she didn't exist.

"Am I completely invisible to you?" she suddenly found herself asking.

Professor Snape looked up at her in what she thought was surprise, though he quickly masked it.

"I hate it when you look at me like that." Hermione was starting to panic—why couldn't she shut off her mouth? "It makes me feel like I'm eleven years old again. Of course, that's probably your goal, since you'd like everyone to be as miserable as you are."

She gasped and put a hand over her mouth, horrified at what she'd just said. Professor Snape's eyes were crackling the way they did when he was getting really mad.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir! I don't know where this is coming from!" she exclaimed, watching his nostrils flare.

"Indeed," he began, rising from his chair, but he didn't get any further.

"And another thing—you're already taller than everybody else. Why do you think you need to tower over them?" she demanded. "Next time you do that, maybe I'll poke you right in the stomach and see if it makes you deflate or something. Like a balloon, or one of those pool toy things."

Then her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Professor Snape's face was getting red, and she didn't think it was just because he was embarrassed.

"Miss Granger, are you completely incapable of—"

"You look like a tomato." She stopped briefly to gasp at her own words, but before she knew it, she was forging ahead. "I mean it, your face is all red. Your veins are popping out, too, so maybe not a tomato. I—_shite_!"

She fell backward (fortunately there was a chair behind her), and tried in vain to hold her mouth closed. Snape was apparently frozen halfway across the room, staring at her like some gigantic species of insect he'd never encountered before, but didn't particularly like.

"And this detention is so unfair," she went on, in spite of her panicked efforts. "I mean, it's your fault I said what I said. You called me a child, and worst of all, you compared me to Harry and Ron. I am _not_ like them. Blech!" She pulled a face. "First of all, I'm totally a girl. I don't have…well, I don't…I'm not…. I'm not hairy like they are. Hairy, stinky boys. I shower, regularly, and I'm a girl, so that pretty much covers the 'hairy' part. Not hairy as in Harry, but hairy like cats and—Crookshanks! I love Crookshanks….

"Also, I'm not stupid. I got an 'O' in every subject last year—'cept Divination, but that's 'cause I dropped it 'cause it's stupid. Anyway, I get very high marks, and I don't step out in front of traffic unlike certain redheaded, walking, talking broomsticks by the name of Ron, who apparently doesn't know what the little hand means. Seriously, if the little hand is lit, you _don't go_!

"And I think I have a lot of common sense, which is more than either of them have! I mean, who decided that we should just chase down some dog and follow it to the Shrieking Shack? It certainly wasn't me! Of course, Ron didn't have much choice, seeing as how Sirius had him by the leg—and have I mentioned how much I hate Sirius lately? He patted me on the head the last time we saw him. And he tried to pinch my cheek. I'm not five!" She gulped in a breath. "And another thing! I don't like Quidditch. 'S boring. But Harry and Ron both love it, and I think if I have to listen to Harry talking about Quidditch one more time, 'cause I'm the only one talking to him right now, besides Neville, then well, I'll probably just grab a whole handful of Belladonna and just end it right there and then, because I can't take it anymore.

"Although, on second thought, Belladonna might not be the way to go, because I don't really want to have, like, hallucinations? But anyway, what was I saying?"

Snape just stared at her some more, so she waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, well. Anyway, what is it with Quidditch? Even you. I mean, if you're qualified to referee it, you probably played at some point. I used to think it was just a guy thing, but then I met Ginny, and—" she rolled her eyes "—she never stops, either. It's like a compulsion. Maybe a spell-compulsion, that hooks you, like a…like a…thing. Yeah. And-and then…."

Slowly, she ground to a halt. The world was spinning quite a lot. She leaned to one side and threw up, quite suddenly, in her opinion. The next thing she knew, the only thing holding her upright was Professor Snape's firm grip on her shoulders. She focused bleary eyes on him.

"Man, that potion really sucked. I'm never, ever taking it again. Lavender and her stupid magazines…" she grumbled.

Without warning, Snape shook her shoulders.

"Hey!" Hermione protested weakly.

He wasn't listening. "Potion? You took a potion?"

"Yeah, but, I don't think it worked. I really don't think it's supposed to kill me."

"What potion was it?" he bit out, giving her another shake.

"Would you stop? I'm gonna throw up again, and this time it'll be all over both of us."

Snape's grip relaxed slightly and he stopped shaking her. "What potion was it?"

"The Wish-Away Draught," Hermione said offhand, suspiciously eyeing the purple stars dancing over Snape's head. "It was in stupid Lavender's stupid magazine. Hey, when did you get those?"

"What?" he snapped, then shook his head. "Never mind. When did you brew this?"

"Before dinner. I never should've leant Ron my potions kit. I should really tell him to get his own. Although, I feel kind of bad because I know he doesn't have any money, but he always leaves my stuff in such a wreck. I didn't have time to fix it today, so I just brewed the potion and bottled it and drank one and oh, dear, I feel _re-e-e-e-e-e-eally_ dizzy."

Snape caught her as she slumped to one side again.

"Thanks," she said brightly. "I'm sorry I said you were a miserable—wait, merciless old bat. I didn't mean it. I was just mad at you. You make me so-o-o-o-o-o ma-a-a-a-a-a-ad. Sometimes."

"Miss Granger, please focus. I believe Mr. Weasley may have switched some of your ingredients and you inadvertently used the wrong ones," he said, looking pained as he said "inadvertently."

She pulled a face. "You mean I poisoned myself? Oh, dear."

"Can you stand?"

Hermione tried to nod and lurched to her feet, but she immediately collapsed against Professor Snape. Huffing, he steered her toward the door.

"Hey, the purple stars went away!"

Snape glowered at her.

* * *

Professor Snape half-carried, half-walked her toward the hospital wing, much to the delight of the students in the halls. Hermione could hear them giggling and scattering distantly as she was marched off. Another dizzy spell hit her and her knees buckled. Luckily, this had already happened about three times, so Snape was ready for it and caught her. He waited for her to regain her balance and then heaved her up higher again before walking on.

Hermione's head bounced as they walked and her neck was starting to hurt, so she let her head roll its way onto Professor Snape's shoulder. She looked along her arm, which was hooked around his tight shoulders, and wondered how it got there. This, of course, popped right out of her mouth. Professor Snape grunted and she looked up at him instead. His mouth was set in a displeased scowl, but the anger in his eyes was gone, leaving them empty.

"You're carrying me," Hermione said to him, amazed at the realization. "You're like…my hero."

Snape's eyes shot to her briefly and she grinned lazily at him, then dropped her head to look at her legs. They were moving, but it was mostly Professor Snape doing the walking.

"Wow. How much of my weight are you actually carrying?" she wondered aloud. Without waiting for him to answer, she went on, "You must be really strong. I never realized that. I mean, I knew you were powerful an' all, but I didn't know you were strong. That's really…cool. It's like you're like…you're like even more my hero than before now."

His response to that was to grunt again and heave her up with the arm around her waist. If the situation had been different, Hermione probably would've taken the opportunity to enjoy the closeness of their bodies, but, as it was, she was just marveling at how her legs were moving and she couldn't even feel them.

Professor Snape shoved open a door and pulled her into another room. She just continued staring at her feet until she heard Madam Pomfrey rushing over.

"Miss Granger! What's happened, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey asked urgently, taking Hermione's other arm as they took her to one of the beds.

"She accidentally poisoned herself," he explained grumpily.

"Madam Pomfrey." Hermione giggled. "Pom-free. It's like…cheerleader pom-poms!" She snorted. "For free!"

They got her to sit on the edge of one of the beds and Madam Pomfrey started examining her immediately. Professor Snape stood nearby, watching Hermione look around the room in amazement.

"There are _lots_ of purple stars in here!" she exclaimed, leaning her head back and nearly falling backward on the bed—Madam Pomfrey caught her just in time.

"As you can see—or, rather, hear—blurting every little thing that pops into her overactive brain is a small side effect of the poison," Professor Snape snapped irritably.

"How was she poisoned? Food poisoning?" Madam Pomfrey asked, still trying to examine Hermione, who was starting to feel nauseous again.

"She brewed a potion and her ingredients were, unfortunately, switched, due to the blunder of a fellow student," he said silkily, drawing Hermione's eyes and putting a smile on her face.

"What potion?"

"Wish-Away Draught."

Hermione looked at Madam Pomfrey seriously. "It didn't work," she informed her, shaking her head slightly.

Madam Pomfrey glanced at Professor Snape in amusement, but he merely sneered at her, so she went back to tending to her patient. The door suddenly burst open and Snape was nearly bowled over by mop of shaggy black hair.

"Hermione! Are you all right?! I heard from Seamus—"

"Harry! Look, it's Harry!" Hermione practically screeched, bouncing excitedly. "Harry's my friend! I love my friend!"

Harry was shooting a puzzled glance at Madam Pomfrey when he caught sight of Snape out of the corner of his eye. Hermione saw his eyes darken and he turned on his heel, stepping protectively between her and Professor Snape. She scowled at the back of Harry's head—he was blocking her view. She leaned to the side and peered over his shoulder, then smiled when she saw Snape again, who was arching a brow at Harry.

"Seamus said you had to carry her here," Harry said accusingly. "What happened in detention?"

Hermione giggled. "He carried me," she whispered to Madam Pomfrey.

Pomfrey patted her shoulder, smiling maternally. "Yes, dear."

"What happened—" Snape began, sneering, but Hermione just couldn't seem to stop interrupting him.

"What happened is that I tried to make a potion before dinner, and it was all wrong, so now I feel real bad," she said, her smile was replaced by a grimace of pain as she touched her stomach. "And Professor Snape had to bring me here because I wouldn't shut up," she added matter-of-factly.

Harry snorted, turning it quickly into a cough and covering his mouth to hide his smile.

"Really. Well, um, I'm sorry."

"Me, too," Hermione said seriously. "I called him a mean thing. A bunch of mean things, actually. And a tomato." She turned mournful eyes on Harry. "And I said you were stupid."

Harry eyed her, uncertain of how to handle her. "Um…well, that's okay, Hermione."

"Drink this, dear," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, handing her a vial.

Hermione frowned at it. "What is it? I don't want any more poison," she added, trying to give it back.

"It's an antitoxin, dear," Pomfrey replied patiently. "It will flush the poison out of your system. I'll also need you to take a healing potion afterward, to heal the damage already done."

Hermione still pushed the vial back at the matron. "I don't want any more potions. It might be bad, with the wrong stuff in it. Mistakes happen. Even to me, which I hate it when they do," she rambled.

Her breath was growing short and sweat was beading on her forehead. The room was spinning and tilting, and her stomach felt like it had been squashed.

"Hermione, you really need to take it," Harry encouraged her.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You always refuse your potions, at first." She said the second part quietly, so he wouldn't hear.

"Miss Granger, you _must_ take both potions _now_," Snape interjected suddenly, stepping forward.

His voice seemed uncharacteristically urgent, and he actually took the hand holding out the vial and gently but firmly directed it back toward her. She frowned up at him.

"But—"

"Miss Granger. _Now_."

"But it could be poison. I didn't know my potion was bad until I started vomiting up every little thought that popped into my head," she pointed out, just a tad plaintively.

"Miss Granger, this potion is _not_ bad. It is _not_ poisonous."

"How do you know?"

"Because I brewed both of them."

He opened his mouth to say more, attempting to convince her, but that was enough for Hermione.

"Okay," she said, and tossed back the potion. She made a face at the taste, but she didn't protest when Madam Pomfrey handed her another—just tossed that one back, too.

"Very good, dear," Madam Pomfrey said with a smile, taking the empty vials away.

Hermione yawned. "I'm tired now."

The matron helped her get settled on the cot and turned to shoo Harry out the door.

"I'll be here to visit you in the morning," Harry said kindly before taking his leave.

Hermione just yawned. The last thing she heard before going to sleep was Madam Pomfrey saying, "Thank you, Severus. I don't know what…" and then she was asleep.

* * *

Harry visited early that morning, like he promised. He found Hermione wallowing in a pit of embarrassment and self-degradation, which he tried to help her crawl out of, but to no avail. Hermione couldn't get over what she'd said to Professor Snape. _It was just lucky I was mad at him_, she reflected, _or else it wouldn't have been just anger he was feeling._

The thought that she could've spilled the beans about her crush to him made her feel ill again. Not only had the potion turned into poison, the situation had only made her crush a little harder on her professor. The memory of how he'd carried her to the hospital wing and how he'd seemed to care so much about her in those moments had her eyes glazing over and her imagination dancing with visions of kisses in the Potions room. Hermione hid her face in her pillow a lot during that day.

Various Gryffindors and friendly acquaintances from other houses visited to wish her well. The ones who didn't know her as well brought chocolates and candies. The ones who knew her well brought the homework. Ron even visited her—mostly to grovel and beg for forgiveness. Apparently he and Harry had had another fight in which the latter relayed the cause of the poisoning to the former.

Once Ron left, Hermione was alone for most of the day and bored out of her mind. It only took her a little while to finish the work she'd missed for each class. She was starting to worry about Crookshanks, even though Ginny had promised she would take care of him while she was in the hospital.

Madam Pomfrey had just delivered dinner to all of her various patients when the door slammed open. Hermione was just pushing her food around her plate, not really interested in eating, so she looked up quickly to see if maybe Harry had come back. To her surprise, Professor Snape was striding toward her purposefully. She pushed herself up in bed quickly and adjusted the hospital gown she was wearing. She hated that she was blushing.

"Professor, I wasn't expecting you to—"

"Miss Granger, I have come for one purpose," he interrupted briskly. "I do not consider your detention fulfilled, as you were only able to complete cleaning one cauldron. As such, I expect to see you in my classroom again tomorrow night at seven."

Hermione drooped—even though she didn't know what she'd been hoping for. Snape was observing her with a critical eye; the severe disgust he felt in seeing her was obvious. She met his eyes briefly and realized suddenly that she'd only confirmed what he already thought—she was an immature child, hardly worthy of notice. She dropped her eyes, feeling the sting deep in her core.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly.

"Additionally, you will serve another detention the following night," Professor Snape hissed, shooting her a disdainful glare. "For your stupidity in poisoning yourself."

Her eyes widened, but she still didn't meet his gaze directly.

"Yes, sir."

With one last glower in her direction, Snape whirled away and swept out of the room, leaving Hermione on the verge of tears.

* * *

Weeks later, Hermione sat in the library researching for her Charms homework. Naturally, she already knew the answer to the essay question, but it was always nice to have references. She still had Potions homework to do, but she preferred to do that on Saturdays, when she could go to Hogsmeade for a steady supply of chocolate to help her get through it.

Professor Snape's attitude toward her hadn't changed in the least—she was either invisible or he hated her. The almost caring man had faded into that cold Potions professor and things were back to normal. It didn't stop the hurt Hermione felt whenever he glared in her direction, though, and so chocolate was the order of the day when she had Potions.

Even the mended relationship between Harry and Ron didn't relieve Hermione's sadness.

Presently, she shook her head and huffed. There was no point in thinking about it. She flipped open to the next page and started scanning it when a shadow moved over her. Thinking it was Harry or Ron or someone, Hermione looked up irritably.

"Could you—oh!"

Hermione stared up at Viktor Krum with wide eyes. She shifted a little in her chair and stood uncomfortably when he just gave her a small smile.

"Did you need to get by?" she asked, pressing herself closer to the bookshelves in case that was the case.

"No. I came to talk to you," Viktor replied, still smiling. "I am Viktor Krum."

He offered his hand and Hermione took it, giving him a curious look. What could the world's biggest Quidditch star want with her?

"Hermione Granger," she replied, going to release his hand after a shake.

Viktor didn't let go, however, and lifted her hand to his lips. He bowed over her hand as though he were worshipping it and gently pressed a kiss to her knuckle. Hermione felt a blush creeping up her cheeks and lowered her hand when he released it.

"Is lovely to meet you," he said sincerely, smiling again.

She smiled back. "The pleasure is mine."

"I vas vondering, Hermy-own—"

"Hermione," she corrected.

He frowned a little, as though he wasn't exactly sure how he'd said it wrong, then went on when she motioned for him to continue.

"I vas vondering if anyvon has asked you to attend the Yule Ball," Viktor finished, looking a little anxious.

It was Hermione's turn to frown. She shook her head.

"No."

"Then, vould you like to come vith me?" he managed.

Hermione hesitated. As adorably nervous as this big Bulgarian was, she knew that accepting would be a betrayal. Not of Snape, of course—he wouldn't care. But of a part of herself that knew that the Mirror of Erised and the boggart were right. Professor Snape was who she wanted, and no one else.

_So I'm just supposed to give up on a romantic life and wait for Snape to love me?!_, a part of her protested vehemently. _I don't think so! First of all, I'll be rotting in my grave by the time that man loves me. And secondly, who says I should be a spinster just because I'm in love with someone who hates me?_

That little part of her was right, Hermione realized. There was no reason to wait for Professor Snape, because it would never happen. It was time to face facts and move on with her life. Even if she never got over him, at least she wouldn't regret sitting around waiting for him.

She smiled brightly at Viktor. She said yes.


	4. Fifth Year

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing. Except this computer.

**A/N:** This is the chapter when Severus _starts_ to realize that Hermione exists and develop feelings for her.

I realize a few people were hoping for/expecting a Yule Ball scene/Severus' reaction to Hermione's relationship with Krum. This story was already finished when I began posting it, and I feel that the insertion of a Yule Ball scene would seem random—and it certainly wouldn't take up a full chapter. Beyond that, Severus' reaction wouldn't be much to see, since he still had not realized Hermione's maturity, or existence. Do not worry, though—in this chapter you will begin to see the threads of his understanding.

* * *

Hermione sat in Potions class, writing down notes as Professor Snape lectured in the front of the room. Harry and Ron were whispering back and forth about something, but she wasn't really listening. Ron tugged on her sleeve and she motioned for him to be quiet. He frowned and went back to whispering with Harry.

"Miss Granger!" Professor Snape suddenly snapped.

Her head shot up and she stared at him with wide eyes.

"Yes, sir?"

"See me after class," he said simply, then went back to lecturing.

Hermione frowned, puzzled. It wasn't as though she'd done anything. She went back to writing notes. As soon as class ended, she walked up to his desk and waited there while he placed the last potion sample into the test tube rack.

"You asked to see me, sir," she reminded him when he gave her a questioning look.

"Oh, yes."

Professor Snape stood and walked around his desk, looking into her eyes. She swallowed, shifting in place. What was he going to do?

And then he smiled at her.

Hermione shot up in bed, gripping the sheets tightly. She panted, trying to regain her bearings and her breath. A grin was fighting to surface, but she bit it back. It was just a dream, after all. He hadn't really smiled at her. _Besides, you've moved on from this, remember?_, she thought admonishingly.

The joy she'd felt in seeing that smile on his face began to abate and she sighed, glancing around at the other sleeping forms in the room. Lavender was tossing and turning, mumbling something about not wanting to scare the rabbits. Hermione flopped back into her pillow and took a deep, cleansing breath. Just a dream.

She closed her eyes and rolled onto her side, curling up around Crookshanks and his comforting warmth.

* * *

Harry was shouting encouragements to the entire room. Everyone was trying their hardest, but it seemed that the Patronus Charm was their most challenging spell to master yet. Hermione was certain she had the movements correct—it was the happy memory thing that was blocking her. She thought of the day she found out she was a witch. That was a happy memory, for sure.

"Expecto Patronum!" she said urgently.

Her wand produced nothing but a few red sparks. She scowled in thought. That certainly wasn't good enough. There must've been too much shock and other emotions mixed in. What was her happiest memory? She tapped the end of her wand on her chin.

"Keep trying, Hermione," Harry said encouragingly. "You'll get it."

She nodded absently, and then it hit her. Memories of her friends! She started with the first time Harry and Ron smiled at her genuinely, then worked her way through the memories she'd been happiest with them. When Dumbledore told her Harry was alive and well after facing Voldemort first year; when she got actual thoughtful birthday presents from both of them second year; when she woke up from being Petrified and saw them again; their first Christmas together; the day at the Quidditch tournament. Every single thing she could think of from the moment they first became friends until that very second. Nothing worked.

Hermione paced in her short space and thought hard. When had she been happiest? Her brain automatically brought her a false image of Professor Snape smiling at her. Warmth spread through her body and she fought another grin. It was easily dashed when she thought, _A _dream_ is my happiest memory? How pathetic am I?_

She rolled her eyes at herself and took another deep breath. It was worth a shot. She aimed her wand and let the dream return to her consciousness, digging up all the details she could from it.

"Expecto Patronum!" she almost shouted.

Hermione felt a surge of power travel through her and into her wand. Out the end of it came silvery wisps and then she saw a shape start to form. She lowered her wand as she tried to see what it was. She was startled when an otter came rushing at her, then quickly dodged her body and swam through the air in a circle around her. She turned to watch it, grinning delightedly at the little creature.

"Excellent, Hermione!" Harry called, noting her progress.

"Way to go, 'Mione!" Ginny added, grinning at her. "It's so cute!"

Hermione laughed, watching the otter twirl around her again. And all because of a dream.

* * *

"So…what memory did you use?" Ginny asked as the four of them walked down one of the garden paths.

Umbridge hadn't quite outlawed that yet, so they felt safe in doing so. Harry was feeling extra gloomy and enraged today, so Ginny took the opportunity to change his thoughts to something more cheerful. Hermione knew it was a good idea, but she really didn't feel like imparting that little bit of information. It was just another thing to add to her stack of secrets to go to the grave with her.

So she gave Ginny a closed-off look and simply said, "I don't care to discuss it."

Ginny's eyes widened, as though Hermione had told her that she was a hussy or something. Hermione stuffed her hands in her pockets and faced the path ahead again, marching alongside her friends.

"Hermione…it's supposed to be a _happy_ memory," Ginny reminded her, trotting to keep up. "That means no sad!"

"I'm not sad," she said defensively. "I just don't want to talk about it."

Before Ginny could reply, Ron interjected, "Uh…Hermione has a lot she doesn't like to talk about. I'd just let it go."

"What are you talking about? Hermione likes to talk about stuff!" Ginny protested, looking completely dumbfounded.

"It's pretty much a well-known fact that Hermione has secrets," Harry said gruffly, though Hermione knew his anger wasn't directed at the redhead. "She doesn't share."

"Sure she does! She's Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "She tells me everything."

Doubt flitted across her features.

"Don't you?" she asked, quieter now.

Hermione gave her a smile she hoped the redhead would accept as assurance. She didn't.

"You don't tell me everything?" Ginny whimpered. "Well…that's just mean."

"You don't tell _me_ everything," Hermione countered, chuckling.

"Yes, I do! You're my best friend," she replied hastily. "Best friends tell each other everything. It's like a rule or something." She paused. "So…tell me what your happiest memory is, or break the law."

Ron snorted, and Hermione avoided Ginny's eyes. _Professor Snape smiling at me in a dream…yeah, that'll go over well_, she thought sarcastically. Even as her wittier side rose up, a blush colored her cheeks as the image of his affectionate smile filled her mind again. Ginny pounced on that blush like a bloodhound on the scent.

"You're blushing!" she announced. "Oh my gosh, you _have_ to tell me!"

"There's nothing to tell!" Hermione protested. "It's just a stupid little thing. It wouldn't interest you."

Ginny shot her a look, then exchanged glances with the boys.

"Does this woman not know me at _all_?" she asked them.

Harry managed to smile. "Hermione, anything that Ginny doesn't know interests her. She's kind of like you in her endless quest for knowledge. It's just a different kind of knowledge."

Hermione gave _him_ a look this time. "Thanks, Harry."

"You're welcome."

"So…tell me. It can't be that bad," Ginny begged, linking arms with Hermione so she couldn't escape.

Hermione squirmed. "It's not bad, it's just…stupid."

"I miss the old excuse," Ron commented, nudging Harry.

"Oh, yeah, what was it?" Harry replied, grinning.

"'A girl's heart is very private,'" Ron began.

Harry joined in immediately and they recited it together, "'It's like a safe, and only the one man with the key can open it and find out what's inside.'"

Harry, Ron, and Ginny descended into laughter, while Hermione's blush just intensified.

"That's hilarious," Ginny commented, wiping her eyes after they'd stopped laughing. "Hey, wait a sec, though. You guys said she has a lot of secrets. What other secrets?"

Ron and Harry thought for a moment while Hermione mentally crawled into a dark hole.

"Well, there's the Mirror of Erised," Ron listed, counting on his fingers.

"She got to look into it, too?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"Yeah, she went to Dumbledore with a list of reasons, and I guess he let her in," her brother replied, smirking. "But she won't tell us what she saw."

"Then there's her boggart," Harry added. "Which she first lied to us about and then we figured out that it was something else when we were talking about it and she told us she could've come up with something ridiculous for Professor McGonagall telling her she failed everything, but the other thing was too bad to think of anything for."

"Also, what she talked to Professor Lupin about when we were going back inside," Ron put in.

"What exactly she told Professor Snape last year when she was poisoned," Harry said with a frown in Hermione's direction. "Besides that he was a…tomato? And calling me stupid."

Ron thought for a moment longer. "Why she named Crookshanks what she did."

"I _did_ explain that one! You still just don't get it!" Hermione retorted vehemently.

He shrugged. "It counts."

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, and that time she was in tears and she wouldn't tell me why," Harry blurted suddenly.

"Harry!"

He winced. "Sorry. I didn't mean to mention that one, I just—"

"You were crying? Why?" Ginny asked concernedly.

Hermione sighed irritably. "It was nothing. Harry just found me crying last year after the Second Task. I didn't know anyone else was up and he came down and it was nothing. He just held me for a while."

"Then why were you mad at him for telling me…?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"Because it was between us and no one else needed to know," Hermione replied, an edge to her voice.

Ginny looked chagrined, as did Harry, who continued to shoot Hermione apologetic looks. However, that didn't stop Ginny from grilling her some more.

"Hermione, you are a thing of evil," she said seriously. "Why haven't you told me all this?"

"It's private, Ginny," Hermione said tiredly. "Those are very personal questions."

"And we're your friends, so why can't you tell us?" Ginny retorted, looking displeased. "If you can't tell us, who can you tell?"

"If you're worried that I have other friends," she said comically, trying to lighten the mood a little and maybe change the subject, "you don't have to be concerned. I would never cheat on you."

Ginny just frowned up at her, so Ron cut in.

"Come on, Hermione. You've got to admit that it's a little weird that you won't even tell _us_ these things," he said, though it was obvious he was trying not to anger her from his tone. "It can't be good for you to bottle things up like this."

Hermione glanced at Harry, who just dropped his head. He was grinding his teeth, as though Ron's words had really been meant for him. Ginny tugged on the arm she had linked through hers, drawing Hermione's attention away from the brooding teen.

"He's right, you know. And hey, we're your friends. We're not going to judge you," she said persuasively.

Hermione frowned deeply. _About this you would_, she thought, turning away. Ginny sighed, but the determined light hadn't gone out of her eyes. Hermione didn't notice and just kept her eyes trained on the lake ahead of them.

* * *

Later that day, Hermione was walking back up to the common room after her Arithmancy class when she bumped into Professor Snape himself. Literally.

She was just minding her own business, considering how much time she would have for homework that night when there was so much other stuff going on, when she rounded the corner and smacked straight into him. He'd apparently been rushing around the corner, because she felt herself thrust backward and hissed when her rump smacked the floor.

Hermione groaned and shook her head to regain her bearings. Then she scrambled on the ground, trying to get to her feet—totally missing Professor Snape's outstretched hand, which he uncertainly withdrew several times in a row. She began brushing off and glanced up at him.

"Sorry," she said, in case that was what he was waiting for.

She sighed and kept smoothing out her robes, rubbing out the wrinkles. Then she realized he was still standing there. Hermione looked up and met Snape's eyes with a quizzical frown. He was just…staring at her. With the most peculiar look on his face—it wasn't a frown, or one of his trademark sneers. Nor was it a smile of any sort. He was gazing down at her like it was the first time he'd ever actually seen her. She shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare.

"Uh…what's wrong? Do I have something on my face?" she asked, reaching up self-consciously to wipe at her cheek.

Then he did the oddest thing. Professor Snape drew himself up and gave her a sharp nod, then said, "Good day" and took off. As though someone were chasing him. Hermione blinked, glancing around the corner at his retreating form. _Now what was that all about?_, she thought, thoroughly confused now.

* * *

Of all the places she could be at that moment, this was one of the ones she least wanted to be at. Her conscience, however, wouldn't let her leave school without thanking the man who had saved all their lives. It wasn't as though he'd appreciate it or anything. In fact, he'd probably sneer at her, insult her and her friends for getting themselves into that mess in the first place, and then kick her out. Which explained why, out of all the places she could be, this was one of the ones she least wanted to be at.

In spite of all this reasoning, Hermione took a deep, steadying breath and knocked twice on Professor Snape's office door.

"Enter."

She braced herself one more time and opened the door just enough to peer in. The door would be her shield, if necessary.

"Are you busy, sir? I could come back later," she offered quickly when she saw that he was bent over his desk, writing furiously.

When he heard her voice, Snape lifted his head so quickly she thought he might have given himself whiplash. There was surprise in his gaze, but he masked it over with his usual scowl and leaned back in his chair.

"Yes, but since you've already made a nuisance of yourself, you may as well come in," he said grouchily.

The usual bite in his words didn't seem to be there, although he'd said it the same as he might any other day. Hermione puzzled over this for a moment before stepping inside and carefully closing the door behind her. She walked closer to his desk, but still maintained a safe distance between them. She wrung her hands while Snape watched her with those intense eyes.

"I wanted to thank you," Hermione began, taking a deep breath, "for warning the Order and everything. You saved us all, and I'm grateful to you." She paused briefly. "And I also wanted to thank you for trying to help Harry. I know it couldn't have been easy for you, but you did it anyway. And it certainly wasn't your fault he wasn't a willing learner. He can be a bit of a…an arse, to be frank. Sometimes."

Snape smirked. "Ah, so you've noticed."

Hermione blushed. "Kind of hard not to," she admitted lowly. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say," she added more audibly.

She turned, but his voice called her back.

"Miss Granger, I have it on pretty poor authority that you were the one who lured Ms. Umbridge out into the Forest?"

She nodded warily. "Yes, sir. I told her Dumbledore had a secret weapon hidden out there. I knew she was so eager for evidence that the headmaster was massing an army that she'd want to believe me."

His brow quirked. "Sounds like a tactic more worthy of _my_ House than the Great and Noble House of Gryffindor," he sneered.

Hermione couldn't help it; she burst into a grin. "Yes, well, the Sorting Hat _did_ hint that if Slytherin's standards on blood purity were a little more lenient…."

She let the sentence hang, enjoying his quickly-masked look of surprise. She sobered at a sudden thought.

"Sir? With V…. With Y-You-Know-Who around, I…." She swallowed and stared down at her hands. "Professor Dumbledore says you're back at your old work again," she said lamely.

"Your point?"

She glanced up long enough to catch a glimpse of a scowl and a lifted brow.

"I just…please be careful," she choked out, and then she fled.

* * *

For the third time that day, Severus felt his scowl drop and be replaced by a look of surprise. _Now what did she mean by that?_ More important, though, was his reaction. People didn't say "Be careful" to people they don't care about in the slightest. The feeling that Hermione did care for him, if only in the smallest of ways, unexpectedly tugged at him somewhere in his chest. It warmed his middle, a sensation he'd not felt in…. He couldn't remember. But it had something to do with….

_Oh, shite! _There was no way, _no way_ he'd just developed _affection_ for Gryffindor's most irritating witch of the current century.


	5. Sixth Year: Part One

**Disclaimer:** Please don't sue me. I don't own it.

**A/N:** Part of this chapter contains words from the book, but it was unavoidable for the necessary scenes to take place. Ironically enough, this also happens to be the chapter where I start breaking from canon big time.

* * *

Voldemort was dead. Really. Like really, really dead. And you would've thought this would make Hermione happy, but instead, she was fuming.

Harry James Potter ran away from the Dursleys over the summer and personally went after Voldemort. He barely survived the encounter, and only did because of the blood magic from his mother's love. That and the Order members, plus three (Hermione, Ginny, and Ron all came along), showed up to save him from all the Death Eaters who would have killed him after he killed their fearless leader. Or rather, their fearless leader killed himself. And also the fact that Dumbledore and the Order spent most of the past year looking for and destroying Horcruxes, which Hermione didn't really get until she looked it up later on, during the celebrations.

In a fit of childish grief and rage over Sirius' murder, Harry took off and tracked down Voldemort. It was only due to the Squib Dumbledore assigned to watch him that the Order even found out Harry left. Hermione happened to be staying at the Burrow when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were called for an emergency meeting and she insisted on coming along when she found out it was about Harry. Of course, then Ginny and Ron wanted to come, too.

Dumbledore informed them of the situation and Professor Snape showed up during the middle of the meeting and told them all where Voldemort was and what he planned to do. The Order members all went to save the foolish boy and told Hermione, Ron, and Ginny to stay put. Hermione had heard where they would be, however, and refused to stay put while Harry was off getting himself killed. She braved a broomstick and flew off with Ron and Ginny, reminding them to use Disillusionment Charms when they just shot up into the air without a second thought about it.

Hermione was later filled in on what all happened before she and her friends arrived. Harry arrived, trying to attack Voldemort with the Cruciatus, but it wasn't taking any effect. Eventually Voldemort got tired of playing with him and tried to use the Killing Curse. It bounced right off Harry, just like the first time, and hit Voldemort again. He was completely and totally dead.

This, of course, made the Death Eaters a little angry. They all were about to attack Harry when the Order arrived and a battle started. Which was weird, because Hermione always thought the war would start _before_ they killed Voldemort.

Either way, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny arrived at the Riddle manor and headed inside, wands at the ready. Hermione mounted the stairs and ran through the doorway where she heard a bunch of noise coming from. As soon as she cleared the door, a purple flash flew at her and someone yanked her out of the way. Ginny and Ron entered the fray seconds later and Hermione was able to see who her rescuer was.

Snape stood in front of her where he'd basically tossed her to the floor, deflecting spell after spell while he dueled with Bellatrix. Hermione shot to her feet and tossed him a brief thanks, then covered his back when she saw another Death Eater heading their way. She and Snape spent the battle this way, back to back, although they never touched. And afterward they both gave each other sharp nods, but then went in opposite directions to tend to other business.

Hermione didn't know what Professor Snape's business was, but hers was to kill Harry Potter. Unfortunately, her rage went unreleased, as everyone was too busy either congratulating, lightly scolding, or fretting over him to let Hermione through so she could strangle him. She couldn't believe everyone was actually praising him for being so stupid. But there they were, fawning all over him for defeating Voldemort when it was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard of anyone doing.

So, Hermione's rage was allowed to fester and grow as it remained confined within her mind. She did manage to discover some very creative ways someone could be killed, but that hardly did anything to lighten her mood. There was enough joy in Voldemort's defeat for her (obviously—she wasn't a Death Eater or anything) to put on a happy face during all the festivities, but she absolutely refused to speak to Harry, which puzzled him to no end.

Ginny, on the other hand, simply found it interesting and continued her quest to discover Hermione's secrets, adding this one to the lengthening list. It did nothing to help Hermione's anger.

Hermione wasn't used to being angry. Not _this_ angry, anyway. She was usually a very pleasant person, she thought. Sure, she had grumpy days and gloomy days and such, but she wasn't usually _angry_. Which made it really difficult to handle, because she didn't know how. Because of this, strange things kept occurring all around her during their first day back at Hogwarts.

Her baggage involuntarily opened and unpacked itself, everything going to the proper place. Crookshanks hid under the bed after his cage kicked him out, while the rest of the girls asked how Hermione had done that when her wand wasn't even out. In the bathroom, the sink turned on before she even reached for it. And the weirdest occurrence was at dinner.

Hermione was sitting between Harry and Ron, because apparently that's what they did now—they did it at breakfast _and_ lunch—and Harry was blathering on about how great Quidditch would be this year. And then, all of a sudden, her pumpkin juice started bubbling. No one else seemed to notice, but Hermione was certain she wasn't seeing things when it fizzed up at her when she went to pick up the cup. Steam started rising and she realized it was _boiling_.

Harry and Ron's pumpkin juice started doing the same, as well as Ginny's—who was across from her—and Hermione pulled her cup toward her, fanning off the top surreptitiously. _Please stop that_, she thought in a panic.

"Whoa!" Ginny was staring at her cup now, watching the juice start to boil over the sides of her cup.

Harry and Ron jumped when they realized theirs was doing the same and they all glanced around, trying to figure out how to stop it. Then Harry noticed Hermione guarding her cup and fanning it off furiously.

"Hey, is that you doing that?" he wondered.

And he didn't even sound accusing, but it just set her off immediately. Hermione shot to her feet and glared down at him, fists now clenched at her sides.

"Well, if I am, it's _your_ fault!" she bellowed, leaving him staring at her with wide eyes.

There was complete and total silence, besides the boiling, which had started up in a few more cups. Hermione pulled herself away from her anger enough to notice that everyone in the room was now staring at her, so she gathered the last of her dignity and began the long trek out of the Great Hall. Malfoy was snorting with his cohorts, apparently amused at the display, while the students she passed pushed their pumpkin juice away from them when she passed by. Their drinks started boiling, too. Malfoy yelped loudly as some of his pumpkin juice sloshed out of his goblet and splashed his hand, scalding it.

Hermione made it out the door and took deep breaths before practically running up to the dorm for some quality time with Crookshanks. The Kneazle was still a little wary, since he'd been so brutally ejected from his carrier, but he willingly curled up with his mistress when she patted the bed beside her. She pretended to be asleep when the other girls came up.

* * *

Hermione rushed down to breakfast as soon as she woke up, hoping she would get there early enough, and be able to scarf down her food fast enough, to completely miss them. Then she would only have to see them during class! She deflated a little at this notion, but still dug into her breakfast with a vigor to rival Ron. She realized only moments after she had choked down an entire mouthful of eggs that she'd have to wait for her class schedule anyway.

She groaned, feeling a bit sick to her stomach now. And to make the moment perfect, Harry and Ron plunked down on either side of her and started plunging into their food.

"Feeling any better today, Hermione?" Ron asked during the five second period he didn't have food in his mouth.

So they had just put her yelling to feeling sick. That should've made her feel better, but instead she started to get a little angry again. Of course, she got a little angry just seeing Harry and that stupid grin on his face. Especially when his fans came through. That was the worst time of the day.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she grumbled, fiddling with her bacon.

The boys started talking Quidditch with Ginny and some of the others, so she completely tuned them out and started focusing on how bored she was. At least boredom wasn't anger, and it wouldn't make her pumpkin juice boil.

Finally, McGonagall came down to give out schedules. She cleared her on all her subjects and Hermione took off like a shot, not even listening to the congratulations from the other students. For once, Ancient Runes was a blessing.

After the loads of books and homework the professor gave her, Hermione trudged down to Defense Against the Dark Arts, where she would have to see Harry and Ron again. They showed up just minutes before it was time, of course, and looked at the pile of books in her arms with wide eyes. She just shrugged and kept waiting for Professor Snape to arrive. It had been quite a surprise to her when Dumbledore announced the switch, and she wondered briefly if Snape would be any better—now that he had both the position he wanted and Voldemort dead.

Suddenly, Professor Snape swung open the door and let his black eyes flick over each of them. When they fell on Hermione, she couldn't help but lower her eyes. He looked just as malicious and angry as ever. She lifted her eyes reluctantly when he told them to get inside and found that he was looking at her again.

This time she tried a little smile, but it faltered when he just stared and turned into the room. Hermione glanced about briefly before she sat and noted that the room had more of Snape's touch in it now. It was darker, which she actually found a little comforting. Brightness made it harder to concentrate, she found. Not that she liked it as dark as Snape did, but still. Besides, it just felt…homier. She wasn't sure why.

And now there were pictures on the walls, but they weren't happy pictures. It made her sad to see all those people in such pain, even if they weren't really there.

Nonetheless, she took her seat and pulled out her book.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," Snape pointed out, directing his sharp gaze onto her.

Hermione immediately tucked it back in the bag and sat up studiously, waiting.

"I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention," he began, his voice demanding nothing less than total attention. "You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

She heard Harry make a scoffing noise and shot him a glower, which he didn't notice, but it still made her feel better. Professor Snape was looking over them again, and she felt his attention linger on her. A long-buried flicker of hope sent a tingle through her core, but she quickly squashed it as soon as he turned away. _Don't start that again_, she begged herself.

But as Snape stalked around the room, gesturing at the pictures and speaking in that silky voice of his, Hermione found herself daring to feel again. Each time his gaze swept over her, she froze, as though her entire lack of movement would help him see her better. Her eyes followed him closely, even though she didn't need to look to see where he was. By the time Parvati's voice interrupted his speech, Hermione was almost in a trance.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati squeaked, making Hermione jump. "D-did he use them?"

Snape glanced at Harry, and then Hermione. He let it linger on her a moment and she swallowed, wondering why he was focusing so intently on her. He broke their gaze again and stepped toward the front of the room.

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," he answered. "It is not known if he used them in his return."

Harry scoffed again, and Hermione shot him another glare.

"Now, you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells," Professor Snape said, sounding a bit annoyed. "What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Hermione raised her hand immediately, and Snape directed his eyes to her and her alone. She watched him with some degree of discomfort as he approached her desk, only stopping once she could see the whites of his eyes. She waited, and so did the rest of the class, it seemed, with bated breath.

"Miss Granger," Snape said simply, and waited.

She lowered her hand. "Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage," she recited.

"Says the textbook," he snapped back. "In your own words, Miss Granger."

She stared at him for a moment, speechless. All of her other teachers _liked_ it when she memorized the textbooks and regurgitated them in class.

"You…well…." She paused, rallying. "Since you're not shouting out the incantation," she said slowly, "the people around you can't prepare for the spell coming at them properly, because…they…don't know what it is?" He was still staring at her. "Unless your opponent is a Legilimens currently probing your mind," she added in a rush.

Snape nodded once and turned away, leaving Hermione to let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Nodding was high praise coming from him—at least he was sort of admitting that she was right. Harry and Ron were staring at her like they'd never seen her before, so she jerked her head toward Professor Snape and faced the front of the room.

"Not all wizards succeed in learning to produce nonverbal spells," Snape continued. "It is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack." He paused to glower at Harry. "You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

Harry and Ron stood to pair up, as usual, and Hermione motioned for Neville to stand. He was shaking with nerves, so she patted his shoulder.

"Do you want to jinx or repel?" Hermione asked kindly.

Neville shrugged. "I guess…jinx. At least I know I won't hurt you, then."

She smiled encouragingly. "You wouldn't hurt me either way. Now come on, let's try it."

He winced and pointed his wand at her. Hermione kept her lips pinched together, trying not to even whisper, which most people weren't succeeding at, she noticed. Neville kept muttering it to himself, then looking abashed when he realized what he'd just done. She repelled it with a whisper, since the whole thinking it thing didn't seem to be working just yet. It took several tries, but on about the fifteenth one, Hermione saw Neville's lips move and focused all her energy, repeating the spell in her mind. And suddenly, it worked!

Hermione almost squealed, and Neville grinned and nearly came over to hug her, but then his face paled and he looked behind her, sobering. Hermione turned to find Professor Snape standing over her, wearing his trademark scowl. She swallowed and waited for him to say something, all the while trying not to let his nearness intoxicate her too much.

"Two points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he said at last. "And see me after class."

Malfoy and some others snickered when Professor Snape walked away, and Hermione sighed, turning to face Neville again.

"Let's try again," she said, feeling a bit more confident this time. "Focus hard."

Neville smiled and they went at it again. Each time she repelled his jinx, it took less and less effort. She was really starting to get the hang of it when she overheard Professor Snape talking to Harry and Ron.

"Pathetic, Weasley," Snape was saying. "Here—let me show you—"

He turned to demonstrate on Harry, but Harry pointed his wand right back at him and shouted, "Protego!" Hermione gasped and watched helplessly as Snape was knocked back into a desk. She nearly ran over to him to help him up, but caught herself before she did anything that stupid. Snape was righting himself anyway, and glaring daggers at Harry.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing _nonverbal_ spells, Potter?" he snarled.

Harry glared up at him. "Yes."

Hermione rolled her eyes. He could be so…arrogant!

"Yes, _sir_," Snape corrected.

And as soon as Harry opened his mouth, Hermione _knew_ he was going to say something stupid. So she stepped forward, into Snape's line of view.

"Sir, might I try practicing with Harry, to show him what you mean?" she asked bravely, hoping her interference would keep Harry from getting hexed three ways into Sunday.

It wasn't that she wouldn't have enjoyed seeing that, as angry as she was with him, but if anyone was going to hex Harry, it was going to be her. Besides, just because she was mad at him didn't mean she wanted to see him hurt (she may have had some very satisfying images of it, but that didn't mean she wanted it to actually happen). And she _really_ didn't want to be cleaning up the slugs he'd be puking up for days if Snape had anything to do with it.

The rest of the class was gaping at her; Harry was giving her another "I don't know who you are" look—probably since she hadn't wanted anything to do with him for the past week or so; Snape was frowning, like she'd spoiled his fun. Hermione wondered if he _wanted_ to get Harry riled up, but then decided she'd rather not know.

"Very well, Miss Granger," Professor Snape grumbled after a moment, gesturing to Harry. "You may show the rest of the class how to perform this task."

She smiled, pleased, and turned to Harry. The rest of the students sprang out of the way, but Harry was smirking at her. That stupid, self-satisfied, arrogant little smirk that was making her so mad. Hermione didn't look anywhere but at him, focusing all her energy on repelling whatever he threw at her.

"Ready?" he called, grinning cheekily.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes."

He waited a moment longer, letting the tension build. Then he waved his wand with a flourish and she saw that his lips were still moving—he hadn't mastered it yet, obviously. Without one word, Hermione flicked her wand and said the spell mentally. Her Shield Charm hit Harry hard. He went flying backward, into a desk, and flopped over it, ending up on the floor in a heap.

Everyone was too busy staring at either Harry or Hermione, or both, to bother helping him up. Hermione couldn't help the smug smile that was creeping up onto her face, though she tried to bite it down. A couple of Slytherins were trying not to laugh, while the Gryffindors were staring at Hermione like she was a totally different person. Harry, when he got up and brushed himself off, looked like a really bad mixture of mad and confused. He still had no idea what he'd done, obviously.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned around to face Professor Snape. He was staring at her intently, as though he was trying to figure something out. She felt like she was a potion that hadn't turned the color it was supposed to, but she held her own in the staring contest. At last, he unfolded his arms and spoke.

"Eight points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger," Snape said silkily, then snapped his eyes to the dawdling students. "All right. You've seen your demonstration, now get back to practicing," he snarled.

They all scattered and went back to work at once, with the exception of Harry and Ron, who were deep in discussion. Hermione just shrugged when they looked at her and went back to coaching Neville, who seemed just as surprised as the rest of the Gryffindors.

The rest of the class period passed pretty uneventfully, although Hermione kept looking up either to find that Professor Snape was already looking at her, or he'd look at her after she looked up. It wasn't helping the fluttering of hope that kept rising up every time she tried to dash it away. After a while of this hoping, though, Hermione found it was best _not_ to look directly into his eyes, even though she desperately wanted to.

He was a Legilimens, after all, and if he decided to take a peek at what she was finding so interesting about him, he'd probably change his mind about having her stay after class. It wasn't like he'd be _happy_ to see a continuation of what had started in the Mirror of Erised in her head, she reminded herself when that hopeful part peeked up again.

The other Gryffindors were just bursting to talk to her and ask how she'd done it, why, and more, but she waved them off and reminded them that Professor Snape had asked _her_ to stay after—not the entirety of Gryffindor Tower. Harry and Ron shot her grumpy looks and trudged out with the rest, leaving Hermione alone with Snape.

She turned to face him, where he stood at the back of the class. Snape stared at her for a long moment and then pulled out his wand, which he flicked once. Hermione jumped when she heard the door slam behind her and turned to make sure that was the noise she was hearing, then whipped around to face him again. He scowled at her and she winced. Great, she was going to get yelled at.

"You have been letting your magic get out of control, Miss Granger," Snape commented smoothly, taking a few measured steps closer, "as evidenced by the boiling pumpkin juice incident at dinner yesterday evening."

Hermione could only gape while he smirked, apparently pleased that he'd surprised her as he had. She had expected it to be about the lesson, or how she'd knocked Harry down, or something. Not something about the pumpkin juice.

"Uh…I-I know. I was just angry is all," she explained, shifting uncomfortably.

"Clearly," Snape replied lowly, cutting off any further comment from her. "Potter is fortunate his head is still attached."

Hermione grimaced, embarrassed. "Well, I just…see, I'm not used to being angry. I mean, yeah, I get annoyed sometimes, but I'm usually not angry."

"I seem to recall a time when you informed me that _I_ make you 'so mad,'" he reminded her, brow quirking.

If she hadn't been blushing before, she was now.

"Well, yes, sometimes you do, but then—" she stopped when she met his eyes.

She'd been about to go on to say that every time she was mad at him, she would almost immediately afterward be reminded of something that she liked about him, and the anger would melt away just as quickly as it came. But she didn't think that would go over too well.

"I just don't stay mad at you," she concluded, lowering her eyes again.

Silence fell between them for what felt to Hermione like ages, but Snape mercifully put an end to it.

"Have there been other occurrences similar to the display at dinner?" he asked, watching her carefully.

She nodded. "Yes. I went up to unpack my things, and before I even got halfway across the room, all my bags opened and everything went into its proper place. Crookshanks was so scared he hid under the bed for two hours." She chuckled, but then hurried on when she realized her audience was still someone who was devoid of a sense of humor. "And in the girl's bathroom, I reached for the faucet to wash my hands, but it turned on before I touched it."

Snape pondered this for a moment, his scowl fading a tad. Hermione waited patiently for him to speak again, relieved that at least he wasn't yelling at her.

"Miss Granger," he said suddenly, making her jump again. "These are harmless events. However, if your magic is allowed to go uncontrolled when you are feeling a particularly strong emotion, worse things may happen. In order to help you to prevent a continuation of your boiling incident, I am offering you private lessons." Her eyes widened and she met his gaze, startled. "To teach you how to control these outbursts of yours."

"P-private lessons?" Hermione squeaked out, staring up at him.

He nodded once. "Fridays, at seven pm. Do not be late."

And with that, Professor Snape strode to his desk, flipped his robes out of the way, and sat down to begin grading essays. Hermione stared at him for a moment more, unable to make her legs move, because that would've required her brain to be working. The notion of being alone, with Snape, every week, on Friday, for who _knew_ how long, was paralyzing. She didn't know how much self-control she had, but she was pretty sure there were limits to it somewhere, and with the images that were running nonstop through her head just being alone with him _now_…she may as well pack her bags and leave.

Snape, fortunately, didn't seem to notice her inability to leave, for he kept his eyes on the parchment he had in hand. Hermione urged herself to move, and eventually managed to get turned around. Now that he wasn't in her direct line of vision, it was much, much easier to get to the door and, at long last, out of it. Private lessons with Snape. She should probably start working on a will.

* * *

After Arithmancy and a grueling "break" where Hermione worked on her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, it was finally time for Potions. She'd managed to keep avoiding Harry and Ron by hanging out with the few other Gryffindors who were in Arithmancy, pretending to be deep in discussion about the class. They knew her well enough not to disrupt an intellectual discussion she was having, luckily.

Unfortunately, they arrived on time for Potions class and stood in line with her, asking her about her classes and if she had finished her DADA homework, etc., etc., etc. Harry was most annoying about it. He kept moving into her line of vision, whenever she happened to look away, and wouldn't let her fall into a silent spell. It was like he was _trying_ to make her mad.

Luckily, Professor Slughorn showed up and ushered them all into the dungeon that used to be Snape's classroom. It felt really empty and weird without him in it. She sat with Harry, Ron, and Ernie, since her other options were Ravenclaw or Slytherin, and tried to ignore the pot of Amortentia in front of them. Its tantalizing scents were tickling at her nose, though, so she abruptly covered her mouth and nose, as though she were coughing, and turned her eyes to the professor.

"Now then, now then, now then," Slughorn mumbled, patting his pockets as he tried to get organized. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of _Advanced Potion-Making_—"

"Sir?" Harry interrupted.

Hermione noted that he raised his hand _while_ speaking and wondered what the point of raising his hand was if he was just going to talk anyway.

Slughorn didn't seem to mind. "Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything—nor's Ron. We didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see—" Harry blurted in one breath.

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention…. Not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts," Slughorn told him, pulling things out of a cupboard as he spoke.

He handed two battered books to Harry and Ron, along with scales, and Hermione winced. The poor books were so damaged, and they certainly weren't going to get any better treatment from the boys.

Harry groaned. "Look at this! There's writing all through it," he grumbled.

Ron just shrugged, while Harry continued complaining about the quality of the pages and binding—as though it was the book's fault. Hermione quickly got sick of his moaning and complaining and snatched the book from his hands, pushing her own in front of him instead. He shot her a surprised and confused look, which she ignored, and so eventually he thanked her and started paying attention again.

"Anyone tell me what this one is?" Slughorn was asking, gesturing to a cauldron near the Slytherin table.

Hermione raised her hand, since she'd identified all three when they entered the class.

"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," she recited when Slughorn called on her.

She winced when she realized she'd just given an almost word-for-word textbook answer again. Snape wouldn't be pleased, she was sure. Harry and Ron were just smiling with pride at her, like _this_ was the Hermione they knew and they couldn't be happier that she was "back to normal."

"Very good, very good!" Slughorn praised her. "Now, this one here is pretty well known. Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too. Who can—"

Hermione raised her hand again and he smiled, looking a little amused.

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said when he pointed to her again.

Her eyes darted to the Amortentia, as the spiraling steam was starting to gravitate toward her. Apparently it wasn't quite pleased that it had only affected the three boys at the table. She tried to wave away the steam as covertly as possible while still paying attention.

"Now, this one here—. Yes, my dear?" Slughorn prompted when she raised her hand again.

He was still smiling at her.

"It's Amortentia," she explained, swallowing as the scents began to tease at her nostrils again.

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask, but I assume you know what it does?" he asked, watching her curiously.

She cleared her throat, trying not to breathe too deeply. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world."

"Quite right!" Slughorn said approvingly. "You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals. It's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us. For example, I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and old books and—"

Hermione cleared her throat heavily and covered her cheeks, trying to wipe away the deep blush she felt heating up her entire body, it seemed. Harry and Ron stared at her curiously, brows furrowed, but she tried to ignore them. She'd almost blurted the other scent she smelled—sandalwood, which, of course, reminded her of Professor Snape. And wouldn't it have been just peachy if she'd shared that bit of information? _ Damn Amortentia_, she thought irritably.

Professor Slughorn didn't seem to notice her near-slip, however, and peered at her closely.

"May I ask your name, my dear?"

She smiled, relieved. "Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger?" He blinked, as though trying to remember something. "Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

She heard the Slytherins snickering about something behind her, but chose to ignore it in favor of awaiting Slughorn's reaction. He glanced between her and Harry for several moments before his eyes lit up and he smiled widely.

"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!'" He sounded like he was quoting someone. "I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

Harry grinned and puffed out his chest. "Yes, sir."

Hermione gaped at him in surprise. He'd really said she was the best? She felt a little bit of her anger with him starting to ebb away.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," Slughorn said delightedly before returning to the front of the class.

"D-did you really tell him I'm the best in the year?" Hermione whispered to a still-grinning Harry.

He bobbed his head in the affirmative and Hermione couldn't help but blush a little.

"Oh, Harry," she said softly, then turned back to face the front of the room, where Slughorn was now lecturing about Amortentia.

The potion was certainly a cauldron of seduction. Hermione couldn't help leaning forward a little in her seat, just to get a closer whiff. The mixture of those delectable scents was so completely intoxicating that she nearly fell off her chair in the middle of Slughorn's talk about Felix Felicis. She vaguely recalled him asking her a question and her blurting out an answer, but mostly she just wanted another whiff of that potion.

Hermione was barely able to drag herself away from those smells to start working on the assignment. She flipped open to the page Slughorn indicated and began brewing with a cheery hum. That potion was just dandy. It was also nice not to have to worry about a partner who might blow up her hard work. Not that she didn't like Neville, but his habit of exploding her cauldrons _did_ get a little tiring.

Hermione got to work as quickly as possible, but it was difficult when the entire page had been scribbled to death. She squinted at the tiny black writing curiously. The previous owner of this book apparently was _not_ happy with Libatius Borage's version of things. Once she got through chopping her roots, she found an instruction on the side that had her a little curious.

"_Crush with flat side of silver dagger, releases juice better than cutting._"

She bit her lower lip, trying to decide. Should she listen to Borage, or the mystery student? The scholar in her screamed for her not to listen to some brainless student—how would _they_ know better than someone who'd had a book published on the subject? But another part wanted to know badly if this person was right. Maybe this was the better way….

So, against all her usual ethics concerning school, Hermione crushed her sopophorous bean with the side of her dagger.

* * *

Slughorn stepped about the room with a genial smile, peering into his students' cauldrons with an air that suggested that he really _didn't_ expect great potions out of this. Hermione waited impatiently, rocking on her heels, and eyeing the spirals coming from the Amortentia. She was really tempted to run right over to it and take a good, long sniff of it. She was just imagining this delightful experience when Slughorn came to their table.

Ron was still mumbling curses under his breath, and Slughorn smiled at him when he peered into his cauldron. He gave a nod when he saw Harry's, and Ernie's, but then he saw Hermione's perfectly brewed potion and grinned widely.

"The clear winner!" he announced to the room, spreading a blush over Hermione's cheeks. "_Splendid_, my dear, just _splendid_! Here you are, your Felix Felicis, as promised. Use it well."

He winked at her and Hermione just held the tiny vial uncertainly in her palm. She hadn't even been listening when he said he would give Felix Felicis to the brewer of the best potion of the day. Maybe going over and sniffing more of that Amortentia wasn't such a good idea—it was awfully distracting.

* * *

A few days later, Hermione sat alone in the common room during one of her free periods. She flipped idly through the pages of her _Advanced Potion-Making_ book, sometimes pausing to peer closer at the little notes at the side. This student's take on the potions was proving much more trustworthy than the originals, and part of her was starting to wonder if this was true of other subjects. Maybe there were easier wand movements for Charms and Transfiguration, and maybe there were some shorter equations in Arithmancy that weren't being used.

The scholar in her was still rebelling against this idea. The teachers wouldn't teach them anything less than the very best, after all. Right?

Yet another part of Hermione didn't even care about all this. Her fingers danced over the pages, pausing every once in a while as she struggled with the temptation to look up Amortentia in the index. Ever since that day in Potions class, she hadn't been able to go through a day without thinking about how wonderful it had been to smell that amazing combination.

It wasn't as though Hermione got to be around Professor Snape that often—even with her upcoming private lessons, she wouldn't see him that often—and she hardly ever got to stand near enough to him to smell him. Not that she would even if she did, because, frankly, who wants to get caught smelling their teacher? So the Amortentia was an awful temptation for her.

Fortunately, just as she was about to give in and look up the instructions, Ginny came trudging up and flopped down next to her on the couch, giving an exhausted groan.

"Remind me not to take Care of Magical Creatures after this year," she moaned, shaking her head.

Hermione shut the book and set it in her lap, giving Ginny a sympathetic frown.

"What happened?" she asked.

Hagrid was one of her oldest friends, but his habit of using live animals that weren't as friendly as he seemed to think they were _did_ get to be a little irritating. Harry and Ron had opted out of taking it that year, which she knew was giving them some terrible guilt. Hermione took it because Hagrid was a good friend, and, besides, who knew when they would have to face these creatures in the future? It would be better to know how to calm it than to…not.

Ginny sighed. "Blast-ended skrewt."

Hermione winced. "I'm sorry."

"Eh. I'll survive," she replied, shrugging. "I think. It singed my shoe, though."

She lifted her right leg to show Hermione the now-blackened spot on the end of her shoe. Hermione peered closely at it, then pulled out her wand.

"Nothing a little spell won't fix," Hermione said, then tapped the end of Ginny's shoe, practicing her nonverbal usage.

To her great satisfaction, the black spot melted away and the shoe's color returned to normal. Ginny grinned and tested the material once before lowering her leg again.

"Thanks."

Hermione nodded once.

"You're getting really good with those nonverbal spells," Ginny commented, sitting up a little so they would be more at eye-level.

Hermione smiled. "Well, the credit should really go to Professor Snape. I've read about nonverbal spells before, but it never really occurred to me to use them before he brought it up in class."

"Don't be so modest. It's not as though Snape gave you the mental power and concentration to do it. Did he even tell you how?" she asked pointedly.

"No, but it's a hard thing to teach! You can't exactly put it into words," she said defensively. "I mean, the best he can do is give us more time to practice in class."

"I'm not sure practice will help Neville," Ginny replied, chuckling.

"Professor Snape makes him nervous. He just needs some outside time to nail it."

"I didn't mean that as an insult. I just meant that he's so jumpy all the time that he hardly has any focus," she explained.

"He'll get there," Hermione said confidently.

"So…what did you see in the Mirror of Erised?" Ginny asked, grinning.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to fall for that."

"It's worth a try," she replied, shrugging.

She narrowed her eyes at the redhead. "I wish you would just give it up."

"I wish you would just tell me," she shot back.

"Did you ever think that there's a _reason_ I don't tell you some things?" Hermione asked sharply.

"It can't be a good one," Ginny said defiantly. "But go ahead. What's your reason?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm protecting you."

"You're protecting yourself," she said so quickly Hermione did a double-take.

"I'm doing both," she said firmly. "I'm protecting our friendship."

Ginny was quiet for a moment and Hermione hugged her book to her chest, feeling a little vulnerable now.

"Aww, man!" Ginny groaned.

"What?"

"Now I just want to know _more_!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."

"Come on, Hermione! I'm your best friend!" she begged, shifting to face her head-on. "You can trust me! I mean, seriously, what could be so bad that you can't tell me? You're like a saint. It can't be anything that bad."

"Ginny, just trust me—you don't want to know."

"I'll trust you if you trust me."

Hermione groaned and shook her head. "Please let it go."

"But—"

"No!"

"But I want to—"

"No! No but!"

"I—"

"No." Hermione glowered, putting a finger to her lips. "Shh."

Ginny promptly started to pout, leaving Hermione to roll her eyes and bury her nose back in the book.

* * *

Friday morning, Hermione left the Great Hall as soon as she'd finished with breakfast, intent on going to the lake for some study time alone. It would be a relief to get away from Ginny's questioning, Harry's confusion, and Ron's constant Quidditch talk for a while before her class.

Throughout the week, Harry had become more and more confused about Hermione's behavior toward him, it seemed. He kept trying to catch her attention and get her to have a conversation, but she was still just too mad to deal with him. And he was really starting to notice. At breakfast, he kept offering her different parts of his food. As though that would help.

Hermione sighed. She would forgive him eventually—how could she not?—but it was simply too soon for food-truces. She'd been allowed to be mad for far too long, and now it was going to take some serious groveling if he expected—

"Hermione!" Harry suddenly called.

She halted and, with a bracing sigh, turned to face him. He was jogging down the empty halls to her and smiled anxiously when he finally reached her.

"Hey. I thought we could walk back to common room together," he said eagerly. "It's been a while since we've gotten to hang out alone, especially with Voldemort's defeat and all and everybody following me around."

He rolled his eyes comically, but Hermione just shrugged and turned back down the hall.

"Fine."

"Okay, that's it." Then, using his amazing Quidditch reflexes, Harry shot in front of her and stood directly in her way. "What did I do? Why are you so mad at me?"

Hermione lowered her eyes. "I'm not—"

"Come on, Hermione," he said harshly, shaking his head. "You wouldn't talk to me during the celebrations, you've barely said a civil word to me since we got back to Hogwarts. And don't tell me what happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts didn't at least in part come from you being mad at me."

She considered him for a long moment, keeping her arms folded tightly across her chest. Harry's gaze was unyielding—he meant business. Hermione shook her head and sighed, moving to go past him.

"Now's not the time—"

He stepped in front of her. "Tell me," he said firmly.

She sighed and met his eyes again, her jaw starting to tighten. Who did he think he was, forcing her to tell him why she was mad? She would tell him in her own time, when she felt like it! But no, he had to force it out of her, because it always had to be _his_ way.

"All right, you want to know?" she snapped, glowering up at him. "It's because you're a spoiled, selfish brat and you almost got yourself killed!"

Harry looked taken aback at her fierceness, but he didn't interrupt.

"You could have waited until we knew where Voldemort was, and waited for the rest of us to at least be with you when you decided to take off after him, but no! Instead you just take off, without any warning, without telling anyone, _alone_, to face one of the most powerful wizards of the century! In case you didn't notice, you almost _died_! Twice! You were just lucky the blood magic was still in effect, or else he would have killed you! And then what would we have done?

"The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One," she spat, "would've been dead, and then the entire wizarding world would've lost any hope we had! Not to mention, did you even once think about your friends when you decided to get reckless on us? No! Of course you didn't! Otherwise you wouldn't have done such a _stupid_ thing! We need you, Harry, and we love you, but you didn't even figure us into your thought process when you went running off to settle your score!

"It was the dumbest decision I've ever heard of anyone making, and I…I was _terrified_ I was going to lose my best friend, so you just don't ever…just stop being stupid!"

At this point, Hermione was sobbing, she was so upset. Harry reached out to pull her into his arms, but she shied away and ran past him toward the common room. She just couldn't deal with him at the moment.

* * *

It was getting close to seven o'clock, but Hermione was still in the dorms. She'd emerged to go to class, but she still wouldn't speak to anyone. Ginny brought her some lunch and dinner, and for once didn't question her about her many secrets or why she was so upset. Harry didn't bother trying to talk to her during their class, and, in fact, made Ron sit with him away from her. Ginny told her, while she was still there giving Hermione her lunch, that Harry was trying to give her some space. Hermione couldn't help but appreciate it.

She'd already changed into her pajamas when she remembered that she had private lessons with Snape. So, in a panicked rush, she flung off her night clothes and started pulling her school robes back on. Halfway through redressing herself, Hermione realized she didn't know what she'd need to bring, so she just stuffed her wand in her pocket and then bolted down the stairs.

A few Gryffindors waved at her and greeted her, but she was in too much of a hurry to worry about pleasantries. She adjusted her tie after doing up the last button on her top, then swung her sweater over her head while one of the stairs was changing. And, at last, she pulled on her robe, and just as she reached the classroom, tucked in her shirt. She was breathing so heavily it was a wonder he didn't hear her through the door.

Hermione gave herself a moment to regain a semi-normal breathing pattern, then knocked heavily.

"Enter."

She pushed open the door and turned to shut it behind her before taking in the room at large. When she turned, Hermione found Snape standing only a few feet off, examining her closely. She felt her already heated cheeks starting to flush and she realized she hadn't gotten a chance to prepare herself for an evening alone with her professor. _Just don't think about…anything about him, at all, and you'll be okay_, she thought, swallowing. _Right. Because that will be super easy._

His brow was raised and he was eyeing her with some disdain.

"You're late, Miss Granger," he said at last, apparently too disgusted with her disheveled appearance to bother commenting upon it.

She cleared her throat and began readjusting her clothing immediately as she stammered an apology.

"I-I forgot and I had to—"

"Don't let it happen again," Snape interrupted, narrowing his eyes on hers.

She nodded rapidly. "I won't."

Without acknowledging that she'd said a thing, he turned about and pulled out one of the chairs from the desk and set it forcefully down next to him. Hermione couldn't help watching his movements and the way his robes swept out behind him, sending a chill down her spine.

"Sit," he ordered, gesturing to the chair.

She hurried over and plunked down in it, adjusting her clothing a bit more so that it was sitting properly on her. He stepped around her and turned to face her, pulling out his wand from a pocket. Hermione watched him closely, reminding herself not to think too hard about him.

"In order to gain control over your magic, you must first gain control over your mind," Snape said smoothly, and she had to force herself not to get lost in the way his words slid off his tongue so easily. "To do this, you must learn Occlumency. It will give you the power and control over yourself to master your emotions and your magic. Now, what do you know of Occlumency?"

Hermione swallowed, thinking. "Well, I-I've read some about it—"

He rolled his eyes. "Really, Miss Granger? How surprising."

She cleared her throat, blowing past that. "And Harry told me a little about it after his lessons with you. About clearing your mind and such, and I started trying to clear my mind before bed every night, because that's when you're supposed to be most vulnerable—when you're asleep."

"Then you have a small base in it," he said, though he didn't sound as though he was very impressed. "Now, Miss Granger, I will penetrate your mind. You will try to resist. Is that clear?"

Hermione nodded rapidly and, before she knew what was happening, Snape raised his wand and said clearly, "Legilimens." She felt herself jolted backward in the chair as he swept into her mind and started digging through her memories. She saw the taken aback expression on Harry's face when she was yelling at him and felt the tears she'd cried just that morning like it was happening right then. Now he was looking at her memory of flipping through the potions book and her curiosity about the mysterious student. She tried to direct him away, but Snape only budged when he felt like it. The memory of her initial shock when he'd offered her private lessons rose up and then he suddenly left.

Hermione gripped the chair tightly as the dark room began to fill her vision again. She panted, feeling exhausted from the pressure of someone else's presence in her mind, and tried to regain her bearings. Snape waited, letting her recover, before he spoke.

"Tell me, Miss Granger," he began, his voice very, very soft. Dangerously so. "What just happened?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "You went through some of my recent memories…."

"You ejected me from your mind," he corrected her impatiently.

Her eyes widened. "I did? I thought you left on your own."

A minute shake of the dark head. "I encountered a wall, associated with your memory of my offer of private lessons. The wall was powerful enough that it forced me from your mind altogether, not simply away from the memory itself."

"I-I didn't mean to, I mean—"

He rolled his eyes, looking exasperated. "Obviously. You have apparently built up walls without your knowledge."

"Really?" she asked, a little excited now.

If she'd built up walls already, then it would be easier to keep him away from certain thoughts and memories she had of him, not to mention dreams. Plus, it also meant she was already on her way to becoming an Occlumens! She grinned elatedly, but Snape merely gave her a sour glare before continuing.

"Those walls, for whatever reason you have built them, must be strengthened," he instructed firmly. "Your mind is not strong enough to force me out as yet on its own. You must practice."

He raised his wand and Hermione braced herself.

* * *

Hermione trudged down the row of seats and plopped down next to Ginny, exhausted from the previous night's strenuous activities. She'd never known that using your brain could be so tiring. Ginny shot her a confused look while Hermione simply gathered her plate and stuck her fork in the eggs, then promptly went into a daze. Harry and Ron were sitting a few seats down at the table, but neither one bothered the girls.

"Hey," Ginny said, leaning toward Hermione briefly.

No reaction.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

Ginny frowned. "Miney 'Mione, wakey-wakey!"

Hermione jumped and scowled at her. "I told you not to call me that."

"Oh, so you _are_ still alive in there," she replied, grinning. "I was afraid we'd lost you for good."

She rolled her eyes and started eating.

"So what had you getting in so late, anyway?" Ginny asked curiously, just as Hermione had put a forkful of eggs in her mouth.

She waited while Hermione chewed and swallowed politely. It was such a relief to be around Hermione after living in a house of six boys, none of whom knew how to swallow before speaking.

"Professor Snape is giving me private lessons," Hermione explained once she'd swallowed.

Ginny blinked. "_Snape_ is giving _you_ private lessons? Since when do you need private lessons?"

"Well—"

"And since when does Snape take time out of his busy schedule of being the grouchiest man alive to give someone private lessons? Did Dumbledore make you or something?"

Hermione held up a hand to ward off anymore questions and Ginny waited impatiently for answers.

"Do you remember what happened with the pumpkin juice on Monday?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. That was pretty weird."

"That was me," she said sheepishly.

"Huh?"

"I was so angry that my magic was getting a little out of control," she explained, looking abashed. "And, well, Professor Snape noticed the connection between the pumpkin juice and my anger and all and he offered to give me private lessons, to help control my magic better. And—"

"Wait a second." Ginny stared at her intently. "This was _his_ idea?"

Hermione nodded, like it was no big deal. "Yeah. So my lessons are on Friday nights at seven. He's teaching me Occlumency, so I can control my mind better and therefore my magic. You have no idea how exhausting it is, but I already have a start on it. He says I already have walls built up—"

As Hermione went on about Occlumency and Legilimency, Ginny tried to listen as closely as possible, but something was bothering her about this whole thing. It was Snape's idea, and that was just weird. Since when did he bother with people of lesser intelligence? Why would he take extra time out of his schedule to tutor Hermione? Why didn't he just hand her off to Dumbledore? And, most importantly, why was he suddenly taking an interest in Hermione Granger, Gryffindor, Harry Potter's best friend, and resident insufferable Know-It-All at Hogwarts?

"Anyway, I was hoping for a little study time before lunch," Hermione was saying. "What are your plans for the day?"

Ginny pulled herself away from her thoughts for the moment, though she still couldn't help the critical look she gave Hermione.

"Harry and Ron wanted to get in a little Quidditch practice," she said with a shrug. "I thought I'd go down with them. Tryouts are in a week, after all."

"You know you'll get on the team," Hermione assured her, smiling. "You're a great player."

"What would you know about it?"

Ginny winked, though. It was always a joke between them that Hermione knew as much about Quidditch as Ginny did about studying. Hermione smiled and finished off her plate.

"Well, I guess I'll see you at lunch, then," she said, standing.

"If you finish up your homework, feel free to come down to the pitch," Ginny said quickly, watching her start to go. "I can always use support when it's just me against the boys. Who knows? Maybe you could even join us."

Hermione went a little pale. "I think I'll leave the heights to you."

Ginny laughed lightly, but she couldn't help frowning after her friend had turned away. She couldn't figure out what was really bothering her so much about this. Sure, it was odd, but that wasn't the main thing. She turned in her seat and glanced up at the Head Table, where a few of the teachers were finishing up their breakfast. And then the dark robes that would be Snape caught her eye. He was staring intently at something beyond Ginny, but he looked back down at his food a few moments later. He'd been watching Hermione leave, she was sure of it.

Could Snape have a little crush on that nearest and dearest friend of Ginny's?


	6. Sixth Year: Part Two

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

Hermione walked back to the common room, yawning several times as she went. Her session with Professor Snape had gone even later this time than it had last week. She still wasn't able to push him out of her mind, but she _had_ been able to direct him away from more short memories of her potions book. He seemed to be really interested in that, for some reason, as well as one of her newer memories. Her conversation with Ginny on Saturday morning had been just fine, but she kept giving her really weird looks, and Snape seemed to be really fascinated with that.

Snape also seemed to like making Hermione relive her argument with Harry. Especially the part where she called him a "spoiled, selfish brat." And the memories she blocked from him—she was still working on strengthening some of the walls—were also of particular interest to him, for some reason. He liked to try and test her walls, but he never tried to get at the one of his offer to give her private lessons again. He didn't seem to like being thrown out of her brain. Which was understandable, because she didn't really like him forcing into her brain.

She had to wake the Fat Lady up before she could give the password, which the portrait did _not_ appreciate in the least. Hermione yawned and covered her mouth again, shaking her head. She was so tired.

This week alone had been exhausting, and not just as far as the lessons. Her homework pile was enormous, and most of her teachers already held higher standards for her. Slughorn was starting to realize her capabilities as well, and he was about ready to join the group of teachers who asked a lot of her.

Hermione continued her investigation of the potions book, which she discovered belonged to "the Half-Blood Prince." The Prince didn't have much to say about Amortentia, because apparently it was already powerful enough—according to his notes, anyway. But he did have a few corrections to make it a _little_ more potent. She was still debating whether it was a good idea to make it or not, but she found herself turning to that page more and more often throughout the week.

Her exhaustion wasn't helped by Ginny's continued quest to discover her secrets. And she also, for some reason, was taking a keen interest in Hermione's private lessons and her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She didn't have to worry about Harry or Ron the entire week. Harry was still giving her space, and Ron apparently thought that if Hermione was mad at Harry, she was mad at him by extension. She didn't really mind—without Harry around, she didn't have much to say to Ron.

Just as she was about to head up the stairs, someone whimpered her name softly.

"Hermione?"

She whipped around, surprised, and found Harry blinking the sleep out of his eyes where he lay on the couch. He rubbed his face and found his glasses, which were awkwardly crooked on his ears. He readjusted them quickly and, with great effort, pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Harry, what are you doing up so late?" she admonished lightly, coming to the back of the couch.

He stretched his arms out. "Uh…waiting for you," he groaned. "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight," she answered, eyeing him sympathetically.

It warmed her heart a little that he'd stayed up so late waiting for her.

He grunted. "Good thing tomorrow's Saturday."

"You have Quidditch tryouts tomorrow, though, don't you?" Hermione asked, wincing afterward.

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah…. But I had to talk to you."

He focused his eyes on her, suddenly, and she felt a little uncomfortable under his stare. She rested a hand on the back of the couch, feeling comforted by the soft material.

"Okay. What's up?" she prompted, going for nonchalance.

Harry ruined any chance she had of being casual about this encounter when he put his hand on hers and looked seriously into her eyes. Hermione frowned uncertainly, wondering what was so important.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said at last.

She blinked. "What?"

"I-I've been trying to give you space, but I just can't take it anymore," he continued, sighing. "I had to apologize. So…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so stupid, and I'm sorry I scared you like I did. I promise I won't ever do anything like that again."

"Um…." She really had no idea what to say. "I…."

"I really thought about what you said," Harry said earnestly. "And I realized you're right. It was rash and dumb, and I really should've taken you and Ron and Ginny into consideration. I didn't, and I was wrong. I'm really sorry."

He was being so…mature! Hermione froze, simply staring at him a moment longer. She didn't want to spoil this moment.

"I feel really bad that I disappointed you. I mean, you're the closest thing I have to family—you're like a sister to me," he said morosely. "I would never want to upset you like that, and I'm so sorry I did."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at him and shifted her hand so she was holding his. She squeezed gently and watched him look hopefully from their hands to her eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she said softly. "Of course you're forgiven."

He breathed a sigh of relief and Hermione leaned down to wrap him in a slightly awkward hug. He hugged her right back, squeezing tight, and when she pulled away, he was grinning at her.

"Thank Merlin, because if I had to go another week trying to figure out Snape's insane homework assignments, I might've taken the easy route and jumped in the lake," Harry said goofily.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Well, now you won't have to. But I think it's time we both got to bed. You have to be ready bright and early tomorrow to get the best Quidditch team Gryffindor has ever had."

His grin widened and he swung himself over the arm of the couch to join her.

"You promise to come and try out?" he teased, slinging his arm around her shoulder.

"I promise to watch," she replied, chuckling. "I think anything more than that would lead to sweaty palms and screaming."

He laughed with her and they headed up the stairs together.

* * *

The day before her birthday, Hermione broke down. After lunch, she took her free period to gather potions ingredients and warded herself in an empty classroom, where she proceeded to make her own batch of Amortentia. It wouldn't hurt anything, she kept telling herself. No one would drink it, least of all her, and she just wanted to smell it. After all, even her private lessons with Snape didn't allow her to be in close quarters with him, and she just wanted to be able to have that delicious scent on hand. It might even be a good stress reliever!

She could certainly use it these days, what with all her classes, homework, friends, and the grueling private lessons. Of course, she'd only had two so far, but Professor Snape made it clear he wanted her to practice outside of their lessons. So, of course, she did. She cleared her mind before bed and worked on strengthening her walls. This required some deep concentration, of course, so she often found that she had to seclude herself in an empty classroom or kick everyone out of the dorms so she could meditate on it for a while.

While she wasn't doing that, or homework, Hermione was looking at the Prince's changes in the book, and she had taken to experimenting with some of the ingredients and potions herself. In fact, she'd made a few small changes in the margins as well. Of course, it was only something she played at, since she still wasn't absolutely positive about the idea of challenging the textbooks, or her teachers. She was learning to give non-textbook answers in Professor Snape's class, though, which didn't seem to affect him in any way except that he seemed a little less irritated with the fact that she raised her hand every time he asked a question.

Once Hermione's cauldron of Amortentia was made, she cleaned up and covered the top and snuck it up to the girls' dormitories. Crookshanks immediately got interested in what his mistress was sneaking around, but she shooed him away and placed the cauldron on her nightstand. Then she reached into one of her bags, digging for a container, and, once she found it, poured the Amortentia into that, instead. The container had a lid, fortunately, so she sealed it tight and then cleaned her cauldron.

Crookshanks flapped his tail hard against the bed, glaring at her disapprovingly, but Hermione pointedly ignored his displeasure and got ready for her next class. After all, she'd done nothing wrong. A vat of Amortentia for her to smell before bed wasn't doing anyone any harm.

* * *

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HERMIONE!"

This was what Hermione woke up to on Saturday morning. Thursday was her actual birthday, but fortunately Ginny was tactful enough not to wake her up like that on a school day. Saturdays, however, were apparently a free-for-all. Ginny started bouncing on the very end of Hermione's bed and the bushy-haired girl rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

"Come on, wake up, Birthday Girl!" Ginny was yelling excitedly. "It's a Hogsmeade Saturday, you know! And you know what that means?"

She leapt off the bed and crouched down next to Hermione's hair, where it poked out from underneath her blanket. Hermione groaned.

"It means presents and butterbeer for our favorite witch!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly. "So, come on, get up, let's _go_!"

Hermione heard Ginny bound away and lifted herself onto her elbows.

"She's going to be the death of me," Hermione told Crookshanks. "I just know it."

* * *

After Ginny and a couple of the other girls tried to drag Hermione out of bed, she finally gave in and got around for their busy day at Hogsmeade. She wasn't really looking forward to this birthday, for some reason. Sure, she was turning seventeen—of age, in the wizarding world—but what did that really matter? She was no closer to her heart's desire than she had been five years ago, when she first looked into the mirror.

True, she had grown a lot, and her teeth were normal-sized, and she had tamer hair. But that was nothing compared to that other part; the part that sent a smile to her face and tingles through her body. So there was nothing to be excited about.

Nonetheless, Hermione dressed herself nicely and put on a small amount of makeup when Ginny insisted, and then came downstairs. The boys immediately started singing happy birthday and practically shoved thick, badly made cupcakes in her face. The candles were cute, at least. She blew them out and, instead of going out, they sprang up and Harry's spelled "happy" while Ron's said something that looked like "17th."

After a moment of sparkling at her, the words faded away and Hermione hugged her boys, thanking them sincerely. It was an awfully nice gesture, after all. She shrank the cupcakes for later and the four of them headed down the stairs. Neville and Luna joined them at the front doors, each of them giving Hermione their own special present. Neville gave her a bag of dittany that he'd made into a protection charm. Luna gave her something that looked oddly like a stencil that would supposedly keep her safe from "knargaffers."

Hermione had no idea where Luna had gotten this one, but she thanked her anyway.

Parvati, Lavender, and some of the girls shouted their happy birthday wishes across the street when they made it into Hogsmeade. Hermione blushed, but her companions just laughed and dragged her away.

She was positive they were going to make her go to the Quidditch supplies store—again—but instead they pulled her into her favorite bookstore. She gaped at the long shelves along all the walls, just covered in books, and the rows and rows in the center, the floating books that were rearranging themselves after careless customers put them in the wrong spot. It smelled just wonderful—_almost_ as good as the Amortentia.

The only bad thing was that, even though this was the bookstore with the best selection, it was also the most expensive. So, with a disappointed frown, Hermione sighed and turned back around.

"You know I can't aff—whoa."

Harry was holding out a bag of coins—it was just bulging—and all of her friends were grinning at her widely.

"Harry, I can't possibly—" she protested, staring at the bag with wide eyes.

"Hey, you know I can afford it," Harry replied, beaming. "Besides, we all tried to get you at least one present, but this is easier because we never know which books you'd rather have. We all chipped a little in. So go on, take it. It's our present to you."

Hermione squealed and gave them all huge hugs before taking the bag gingerly and holding it close to her.

"Thanks, so much," she said delightedly.

She whipped around to start digging through the many delights the store offered, but then paused.

"Are you guys going to shop, too, or…?" she asked, frowning a little.

"We're all going to go to the Quidditch store," Ron supplied, smiling.

"Yeah, as much as we love you, we just can't spend four hours looking through books," Ginny teased.

"We figured we could all meet back up at The Three Broomsticks, at twelve," Neville added.

"Yeah, that should give you enough time, right?" Harry asked.

Hermione grinned and nodded rapidly.

"All right, enjoy yourself. We'll see you in a few hours," he said, giving her another hug.

And, with that, Hermione bounced off into the land of books for four blissful hours.

* * *

Once Hermione finished purchasing the many books she'd picked out, she headed to The Three Broomsticks as she'd been directed, even though she was just itching to start reading through her new finds. They all had a great lunch together and Harry paid for Hermione's share, in spite of her protests. In fact, he paid for Ginny's, too, after Hermione protested. She called him an obstinate brat, although they were both grinning.

After lunch, they went through the rest of the stores and Hermione used the leftover book money to buy them all some special treats from Honeydukes. Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Harry headed back to Hogwarts early so that the three of them could give Hermione the last of her presents.

Ron bought her an Automatic Organizer for her potions ingredients, so that no matter what container someone tried to put ingredients back into, it went into the correct spot instead. Apparently he'd been saving up to get her one for two years, still feeling guilty about poisoning her.

Harry got her a photo album and a camera that would automatically place the pictures in the album, along with the date, time, and location. He told her that she would "unfortunately" have to fill in the descriptions herself. The camera also had the added feature of being set to float and take a picture on its own, in case Hermione wanted to be in the picture as well.

Ginny gave her a black choker with a small silver rose for a pendant. Upon closer inspection, Hermione found that there were intricate emerald leaf designs throughout the band. Hermione couldn't help but allow herself a private grin—the emerald so reminded her of Slytherin, and therefore of a certain professor.

She thanked them all endlessly while they sat in the common room. While the boys played Exploding Snap, Hermione pulled out the shrunken cupcakes from earlier and, even though she was kind of dreading it, started eating them.

"I can't believe you cooked for me," she commented to Harry and Ron after she'd swallowed a dry bite of Ron's.

They grinned sheepishly, while Ginny just put on a smug smirk.

"Well, we were hoping to do better," Ron said, shrugging.

"Yeah, we were going to make you a whole cake," Harry added, frowning. "And Ginny said we couldn't do it."

"Which you couldn't," Ginny pointed out.

"So we lost the bet," Ron concluded with a scowl. "Now I can't buy that Fanged Frisbee."

Harry patted his shoulder sympathetically while Hermione and Ginny tried not to laugh.

After she forced down the cupcakes—Harry's actually wasn't too bad—Hermione took the first photo for her album. She made all three of them gather in front of the fireplace and joined the picture as well, to test out the floating feature. Once the picture appeared in her album, along with all the information Harry said it would have, she filled in the description: "My Happy 17th at Hogwarts with Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Best birthday ever."

* * *

"Oh, what a day," Ginny groaned as she entered the dorm, after changing into her nightgown. "Hey, what's that?"

Hermione slammed the lid shut on her Amortentia and sat back against the headboard, trying to affect an innocent look. It wasn't helping that her eyelids felt heavy and she felt a little drunk after taking a long whiff. Ginny frowned suspiciously.

"It smelled like broom polish," she observed.

"That's what it is!" Hermione exclaimed. "Yeah, I just like that smell. Broom polish, mmm. Well, good night!"

She flung the covers over her body and rolled over, facing away from Ginny. After a few moments, she heard Ginny sigh and start to walk back to the door. Hermione relaxed slowly and took a deep breath, gathering Crookshanks close. That was close.

* * *

"Pathetic," Professor Snape spat, glowering at her. "Focus, Miss Granger."

Hermione took a deep breath, still recovering from that sudden loss of his presence in her mind. It never got any less startling. At least she'd been able to get him away from memories of the Prince again. She didn't know why he was so intent on seeing those memories, but she supposed it was because she obviously didn't want him seeing them. It was good practice, anyway.

"Again. Legilimens."

Again, that physical jolt, and there he was, milling through her memories. He found another one of her making a notation to the Prince's instructions, but she quickly redirected him. Instead he was looking at her satisfaction earlier in the week when she succeeded in transfiguring a cup of water into a moving rat—water and all. Then he found her birthday memories. She started to panic a little—those were private, after all. But she couldn't seem to get him away, like she could with the potions book memories.

She relived her exhaustion that morning and Ginny's insistence that she wake up and get going, and Harry and Ron's creative candle creations. Her surprise at their thoughtfulness and some particularly happy moments alone in the bookstore, her teasing with Harry and, consequently, Harry's apology the week before. Snape went right back to the birthday memories, though, after that, and went through the rest of it, up until she went to bed. He couldn't know about the Amortentia.

With great effort, Hermione used the wall she'd built around that secret and pushed him away. To her surprise, he not only left those memories, but also exited her mind in general. She panted again as the dark room filled in around his solitary figure. As usual, he waited for her to recover before he spoke.

"We will continue next week," Snape said quietly, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

They'd only been at it for an hour. Hermione frowned at him, puzzled.

"Um…I—"

"Good night, Miss Granger," he said stiffly.

She pulled herself out of the chair, watching him uncertainly. He seemed upset. Her concern about this almost pushed past the barrier between them, but she bit her lip and forced herself not to display the worry she felt. Snape just watched her as she approached at a slow pace and walked to the door. In spite of her better judgment, Hermione turned when she reached the door and found that he was still just standing there.

"Good night, Professor," she said as softly as she could.

Then she rushed out, before he could unleash any of his apparent rage on her.

* * *

The months rushed by quickly after this. Hermione managed to juggle school, homework, her friends, time with the Prince, and her private lessons pretty well. She spent quite a bit of time experimenting with potions and correcting them in earlier books she had, too, but it was getting quite cluttered in the tiny space, so she first ordered a new copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ from Flourish and Blotts, and then bought herself a few journals, which she charmed to add a new page every time she needed one.

The notes became so extensive on her potions experiments that she was seriously considering getting another journal for it. Hermione also eventually gave into her curiosity about other subjects and started using the Room of Requirement to test out spells and try different wand movements, as well as incantations. She wrote down her findings in the journals, using one for each different subject. She started doing more researching and less light reading than ever, which severely cut down on the time Ginny got to pry.

With all this research and experimentation, she also started finding it highly annoying when a teacher would tell them something that didn't produce high quality results, like what she discovered. So, in a courageous move in late November, Hermione corrected Professor Slughorn. He'd seemed taken aback, at first, but then delighted that she had actually found a better way to make the potion. She felt encouraged, but she didn't do it again for a while, since she wasn't sure it would go over so well the next time.

In class, Hermione altogether stopped giving textbook answers and put it all into her own words, much to her friends' dismay. Her teachers also seemed a little surprised, but not displeased. And, to Professor Snape's great joy, she was sure, Hermione stopped raising her hand in class. The only time she would answer a question was when she was specifically called on, but the rest of the time she tried to force the other students into participating.

She figured it out after Ron made a comment when he was begging her to do his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. With Hermione in the class, who needed to think? All they had to do was know things for the written assignments and tests, but other than that, they didn't have to learn. Hermione's wealth of knowledge and her willingness to share it totally wiped out any need to pay attention or try answering questions.

So, she stopped answering. Ron was highly alarmed by this, as it meant the teachers chose students randomly, since they didn't know who else to call on. Hermione was the girl who answered, and it was completely throwing the student body, and her teachers, off-kilter. Harry begged her to raise her hand, but she refused, insisting that they had to start learning for real.

In DADA, though, Hermione still intervened whenever Harry and Snape were about to get in a horrible argument. Harry always had to open his stupid mouth and disagree with Snape or make a sarcastic comment, and the two would start snapping at each other. So, Hermione directed Professor Snape's attention away with a question about the topic of discussion, and he would back right down and continue teaching, Harry's insolence forgotten.

Private lessons were starting to take a turn in Hermione's favor. By December, she could make Snape see only what she wanted to see, with the exception of her more recently built memories, which were the strongest and insisted on being viewed. It was also starting to become a little less exhausting, as her brain became used to the workout. The only problem was that the more time she spent with Snape, the more she wanted to think about him.

His presence and his voice would pop into her head at various points of the day, distracting her from whatever else she was doing. It wasn't as though Hermione hadn't had this problem before, but it was worse than when she was a twelve year old with a crush. Now that she was older, hugs and kisses weren't the only thing on her mind. It also seemed that the more mature and grown-up she got, the more intense her feelings for Snape became. So, at times, Hermione's thoughts weren't exactly clean, which got to be a problem during her private lessons with him especially.

It probably wasn't helped much by her growing addiction to the Amortentia. Hermione found herself sniffing it every night before bed, every morning when she woke up, and even sometimes during the day. She would just be itching to get a whiff and so she'd run up directly after lunch. Crookshanks disapproved greatly, especially since it distracted her from petting him, which was obviously what she should've been doing when she was in the dorm.

Whether the Amortentia affected her thoughts or not, they were definitely a problem, particularly the week before Slughorn's Christmas Party. Snape took off his outer robe during the middle of the lesson, and just that simple, graceful movement, had Hermione's mind racing with imagery. She was wondering what it would feel like to undo all those buttons herself when he pointed his wand at her and said, "Legilimens."

Hermione was jolted back in her chair, but this time, the dark room stayed in view and Snape simply quirked a brow at her. It took her a moment to realize that she'd just succeeded in keeping him out of her mind, but when she did, she grinned.

"Very good, Miss Granger," he purred, lowering his wand for the time being. "You've made progress, which is more than I could say for that insipid fool you call your friend."

Hermione almost bristled in defense of Harry, but then immediately calmed herself down. Harry never was very nice to Professor Snape, and besides, he _hadn't_ made good progress in Occlumency. What else was Snape supposed to think about him?

"That will be enough for this evening," he said, walking over to his desk to put his wand away.

Hermione rose from her chair, feeling a little unsteady as she always did when she'd just spent hours trying to stop someone from entering her mind and failing. She was about to head for the door, since he'd obviously dismissed her, when she remembered that Slughorn had invited her to his Christmas Party, and that it was on Friday night.

"Sir?" she prompted, crossing her hands in front of her as she waited.

Snape sighed and turned about, staring down at her with his dark eyes.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he prompted, when she just looked at him.

"Next week is Professor Slughorn's Christmas Party," she began, avoiding his eyes, "and, well, I've been invited, but it's on Friday—"

"We will not be having lessons that night," he informed her, scowling.

In spite of herself, Hermione felt a little disappointed. She was half-hoping he would refuse to let her go and insist that they continue lessons. After all, at least that way she'd be spending the evening in the company of someone she actually liked (well, okay, more than liked), rather than some dressed-up, walking, talking bundle of hormones whose entire goal was to grope her.

"We won't?" she asked, trying not to let her displeasure show.

Snape's lips twitched. "No. I am also expected to attend Professor Slughorn's party, as I am one of the students he has…collected over the years."

There was a cruel twist to his mouth when he said "collected."

Hermione couldn't help it; her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Ah," she said shortly.

He lifted a questioning brow at her. "Has he collected you yet?" he pressed when she said nothing.

She gave a mighty snort. "Don't say 'yet,' Professor. It's not going to happen." She tried to suppress a shudder and failed. "I don't want to spend any more time with that slimeball than absolutely necessary. How you stood him for seven years of Potions classes is beyond me."

When both his brows rose, she realized what she'd said. Her cheeks burned.

"Um…sorry, Professor. I shouldn't have said that about Professor Slughorn. It was very rude of me," she mumbled, eyes downcast.

"It was," he agreed. Then: "You have been attending his Slug Club meetings, and yet you maintain that he will not collect you?"

Hermione felt a sudden surge of fury at the whole idea; she'd thought it disgusting ever since Harry explained it to her. As though Slughorn himself was responsible for his elite students' brilliance—the very idea was laughable. She lifted her chin, unaware that her eyes sparked with her anger.

"He's more than welcome to put me on his wall, but my achievements are mine alone," she replied crisply.

She just barely contained herself from adding more, much less flattering comments.

Snape looked bored. "Clearly, your lessons are far from finished."

Hermione blinked at the non sequitur. "No, sir."

"I will see you here in two weeks, on Friday."

She nodded, knowing a dismissal when she heard one. "Very well, sir. Good night."

He didn't respond, and she slipped quietly out.

* * *

"Are you going to wear the choker?" Hermione heard Ginny ask from outside the curtains of her bed—for the fiftieth time.

Hermione huffed. "No, Ginny. I'm _not_ going to wear the choker with the dress that I bought specifically because its color matches the design on the choker. That would be pure insanity."

She heard Ginny huff right back.

"I'm just excited for you," Ginny said with a sigh. "And also nervous. I mean, you're going alone. You could meet anyone. You have to look totally _hot_."

"The chances of that happening get slimmer every day," Hermione retorted as she pulled the dress over her head.

"Don't say that. You're a very attractive woman!" she said enthusiastically.

"And you're the only person alive who will ever say that," she shot back. "Besides my mother. Who, by the way, suggested I wear a dress with a slit up the leg."

Ginny gasped. "And show up looking like a slut?!"

Hermione tried not to laugh as she busied herself with the tights she had to put on.

"Because the dress with the V down to my belly button _you_ suggested speaks volumes about my reserve."

"It wasn't down to the belly button…."

"Okay, I'm almost done. I just need you to do up the back for me," Hermione informed her as she pulled on her black high heels.

She pushed aside the curtains and stepped off the bed, not noticing the stunned look on Ginny's face until she looked up from smoothing out the skirt of the dress. It was rather skin-hugging, which she wasn't used to, but it was modest enough that she felt comfortable in it. Hermione looked up from it and glanced back down at her dress when she saw the look on Ginny's face.

"What? Do I have something on me?" she asked, confused.

Ginny snapped her mouth shut and started walking in a slow circle around her friend. She paused to tie up the back, but then stepped back again to continue her circle. She stopped in front of Hermione and shook her head, looking amazed.

"What?" Hermione demanded impatiently.

"Well…don't get offended or anything, but you look _fantastic_ in green," Ginny replied, still looking her over. "I never would've thought it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Be serious."

"I am! You should wear green more often," she insisted, smiling. "Really."

"Let's just get my hair and makeup done," she said uncomfortably.

It was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes. They sat in front of Lavender's vanity, which she had told them they could use. They still weren't sure if she knew what they were talking about, since her lips had been rather busy with Ron's. Ginny worked around Hermione's head, using Sleek-Easy at different points and pinning up parts in some silver barrettes she was lending Hermione. Eventually, they had the brown mane up in a nice do that left a few strands dangling to caress her neck and cheeks. Then Ginny did her make-up and Hermione put on the cherished choker at long last.

Ginny was just stepping around her, brushing her off and straightening the dress, doing the finishing touches, when Hermione saw herself in the mirror and was suddenly gripped with a paralyzing fear. She grabbed Ginny's shoulder and told herself to take deep breaths, even as her knees went weak and she started to sag to the ground.

"Hey, whoa, what's wrong?" Ginny asked concernedly, trying to hold her up. "Are you okay? Hermione, what is it?"

"I-I-I…I can't! I can't go!" Hermione squeaked out, sinking into the chair Ginny placed behind her.

"What? Why not?" She looked stunned.

"Because h-he's gonna be there! And he'll see me! Like _this_!" she moaned, trying to get Ginny to understand. "He can't see me like this! Oh, God, he's going to look at me and he'll be thinking how stupid I am to even try to be pretty because I'm such a beaver-mouth—"

"Hermione, I—"

"—and how ugly I look in green and how I shouldn't even try to tame this hair because it's a frizz ball that will never be tamed and…oh, my God. I think I'm going to throw up."

Ginny suddenly gripped Hermione's shoulders, forcing her to sit up.

"Hermione, you aren't going to throw up," Ginny said firmly. "You are going to get up, go to this party, and you are going to be just fine. 'He' is going to think you look amazingly hot, because you are. You aren't a beaver-mouth—you haven't had buck teeth for two years now. You look awesome in green, and your hair is a lot tamer than it used to be. You can do this, okay?"

Hermione stared at her for a moment before giving a weak, barely visible nod.

"Now, come on. We'll just take it one step at a time," Ginny said soothingly. "Just stand up."

Hermione took a deep breath and slowly, carefully stood. Ginny linked arms with her and started leading her down the stairs, where the boys were sitting in the common room. Ron and Lavender were…involved, but Harry was just waiting for Hermione in his fine dress robes. He glanced up when he saw them coming and he grinned, nudging Ron with his elbow, and shot to his feet.

"Wow, Hermione! You look great!" Harry said earnestly.

Ron managed to pull himself away from Lavender enough to look at her.

"Yeah, what'd you do—"

Hermione saw Ginny making slashing motions across her throat out of the corner of her eye, and Ron shut up. Hermione heaved a sigh and went from Ginny's arm to Harry's, still feeling a little unstable.

"Okay, have fun," Ginny said sweetly. "You can do this, okay?"

Hermione nodded weakly again and let Harry lead her out of the common room. Luna met them in the entrance hall, and she actually looked nice. She wasn't wearing her usual array of odd things, like the pop bottle cap necklace. Harry hooked her onto his other arm and led the ladies to Slughorn's office, which wasn't far.

The three of them entered together and found that he'd transformed it into a tent of enormous proportions, to fit all of his guests. Hermione glanced around at the various guests, but didn't see anyone in all black clothing. Maybe he wouldn't show up, she thought eagerly. At that moment, Slughorn came at them through the crowd.

"Harry, m'boy!"

Hermione heard Harry sigh and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before squeezing through the crowd to get away. She wasn't sure why Slughorn was so enthusiastic about Harry, since he was just a mediocre Potions student. But, then again, he did have other talents worth boasting about.

A few students from other Slug Club meetings were there and she socialized with them for a while. They all seemed as uncomfortable and uncertain in this room full of people as she felt. She spied Harry and Luna a couple times while she chatted as Slughorn dragged Harry around to meet some people.

Eventually, Slughorn started getting around to other students of his and Hermione had to hide behind the punch table, and then in one of the shadowed areas where some veil-like drapes would hide her from the rest of the party. Or so she hoped. The only bad thing about this spot was that she was running out of punch. And, as she soon discovered, the fact that it was under a sprig of mistletoe.

She was standing there, minding her own business, and people-watching, when a huge seventh year she recognized as one of the Hufflepuff Quidditch players shoved through and then _attacked_ her with his lips. Hermione pushed against his shoulders, trying to get him off, and making a moue of disgust, but he took the opportunity to stick his tongue _in her mouth_. When she finally shoved him away and wiped her mouth off, he grinned at her.

"Can't stand under the mistletoe without being kissed, Granger!" he said cheerfully.

Hermione rubbed ferociously at her lips. "Have you ever heard of personal hygiene?" she snapped. "Try brushing your teeth once in a while. That was _disgusting_! And just so you know, even ignoring the complete lack of romance in smashing your lips on mine, without warning or permission, calling a girl by her last name is one of the _least_ attractive things a guy can do. So, please, go away, before I'm forced to shove a bucket of soap in your mouth."

The guy blinked at her a couple times, looking totally surprised by her apparent lack of enthusiasm for having his tongue stuck down her throat. His expression quickly darkened, though, and he looked like he was about to say something, but at her disdainful glower, he just growled and stomped off through the crowd, looking like a thundercloud.

Hermione shook her head with revulsion and shuddered. She would be fine with that never happening again, she decided. She was then surprised to hear someone snickering nearby and whipped around to see who it was. To her shock, Professor Snape stood a few feet away, on the other side of the drape, and wore a satisfied smirk. In spite of his apparent pleasure with her display, Hermione felt herself starting to blush and, not knowing what else to do, raised her cup to him and then turned away.

"Hermione, you okay?" Harry called, pushing through the crowd to get to her. "I saw what that guy did. Are you all right?"

Luna looked concerned as well. "He could've given you snerkars!"

Hermione hesitated and glanced over her shoulder, but Professor Snape was already gone. She cleared her throat.

"Yeah, I'm okay. But I'm going to brush my teeth at least fifty times tonight," she groused, shaking her head.

"Hey, Slughorn's been looking for you," Harry told her, rolling his eyes.

"I figured he would be." She sighed. "I've been putting off my doom for a while, though, so hopefully I'll get through the rest of the party with—"

"Hermione!"

"Ugh."

"There you are, my dear!" Slughorn said cheerfully. "I've been looking all over for you. Chose a spot by the mistletoe, did you? I hope you found your Prince Charming." He winked. "Come, come, I want you to meet Lotus Lillian, one of my old students, and best-selling author of _Potions Ingredients: A Tricky Business_."

Harry shot Hermione a sympathetic look as Slughorn swept his arm around her shoulder and pulled her off through the crowd to a tall, smiling woman who, other than the smile, reminded her of Madam Pince. She looked almost as tall as Snape, and she was thin as a bone. The smile faltered when she saw Slughorn on his way, and Hermione wondered if all of Slughorn's "old students" felt the same way about him.

"Lotus, Lotus, I'd like you to meet my most promising Potions student, Hermione Granger!" Slughorn announced boisterously, gesturing to Hermione like she'd won something.

Hermione smiled weakly and shook the woman's hand. Lotus peered at her closely for a moment.

"Ah, yes. You're that Granger girl I read about in Skeeter's article a couple years ago, aren't you?" she prompted in a high, nasal voice. "Potter's lover? Or was it that Krum fellow's?"

Hermione ground her teeth together, trying to stay polite.

"Neither. I'm just Harry's friend," she said firmly. "And Viktor was my date to the Yule Ball, but nothing more."

Slughorn seemed unaware of the tension. "Hermione could probably get any man she wants, with the brain she has on her! I told you just the other day that she's the best student at this school, didn't I, Lotus?"

"I'm sure you did," she said absently.

"I was thinking that perhaps, my dear Lotus, you might like to take on an apprentice," Slughorn continued, ignoring Lotus' apparent disinterest. "Miss Granger would certainly make a fine one."

He grinned up at her and Hermione thought she might die a little inside. Slughorn was…well…he was acting like her pimp! She shifted a little uncomfortably as Slughorn went on to describe her many talents, in great detail, while Lotus simply stood there, shifting her cup from one hand to the other. Hermione was seriously considering knocking the man out and running for her life when he started talking about how well she could handle a wand.

"Miss Granger!" a voice snapped from their left.

All three of them—even Lotus—jumped, and turned to find Snape coming at them with a deep scowl on his face. Hermione cringed, while Slughorn merely looked on in confusion. Lotus' interest appeared to have been piqued, however, and she looked over Professor Snape as he approached.

"Detention," Snape spat. "Come with me."

"Severus, surely—" Slughorn protested.

"Now!"

Hermione couldn't help but obey. She trailed behind him as he stormed from the room, all the while wondering what she could possibly have done. Harry went to stop them, but Hermione just handed him her cup and kept going, waving off his confusion for the time being. She was too concerned with her own to deal with his.

Snape stomped down the stairs at a grueling pace that made her legs feel a little wobbly. Especially in those high heels. She tried to keep up, though, and found herself relieved when they reached his office. He'd kept his office in the dungeons, apparently, since he was most comfortable there. He swung the door open and she rushed inside, panting a little.

He shut the door behind her and swept to the other side of his desk, pulling off his outer robe and swinging it onto his chair. Hermione used the chair across from his desk to hold herself up while she pulled off one of her shoes and rubbed at her sore foot. Snape kept himself turned away from her and the silence started to make her feel uncomfortable. She pulled her shoe back on quickly when he turned, pitcher and cup in hand.

"Uh…so do you want me to clean cauldrons or something?" she asked, wincing.

Snape's eyes shot to hers. "No. You are not receiving detention, Miss Granger. Here."

He passed her the cup of Steaming Rum (it was a nonalcoholic kind, much like butterbeer) and turned to pour himself a drink as well. Hermione blinked and stared at him as he sank down into his chair, sipping idly at his drink. She was barely aware of the cup still in her own hand.

"What?"

"Would you rather have stayed and continued listening to Slughorn?" Snape asked, quirking a brow.

"Oh." Hermione blinked, then shook her head. "No."

He nodded. "That's what I thought."

Uncertain now, Hermione sat carefully in the chair across from him. There had to be a catch, right? Snape wouldn't just save her from Slughorn without expecting some kind of payment. Right? Maybe he was going to make her do Occlumency lessons after all. Or maybe she was just being a huge pessimist.

It _was_ possible he was just doing this to be nice, wasn't it? The chances were slim to none, but it was possible. Perhaps he wanted an excuse to leave and knew that she wouldn't mind getting out of there, either. Then again, he could've just left without making an excuse. He could get away with things like that because he was Snape. So maybe he was really just being…nice.

Hermione took a small drink. "Thank you," she said at last.

Snape's black eyes met hers again. "You're welcome."

After that, they both fell silent, which was nice for about two minutes. Hermione couldn't help but realize that this could be her one chance to change his mind about her—not necessarily romantically, because that would never happen anyway—but scholastically. She could either impress or annoy him with whatever she chose to say. But what was there to say? She'd already said thank you, after all.

_This is just lovely_, she scolded. _You're totally hooked on someone you can't even have a conversation with. Wonderful choice._ She shifted in her chair and took another drink, looking around at the walls, which were covered in both books and jars of various disgusting things. The bookworm in her had her tilting her head and squinting to read the titles, ignoring the jars. When she heard him clear his throat, she promptly sat up straight and faced forward, setting aside the urge to read the titles.

Snape shifted in his chair a little and Hermione sighed, leaning back in her chair a bit and crossing her legs. This was just plain ridiculous. She couldn't think of one thing to say. Not one. Well, maybe one, but he certainly wouldn't care to hear it. But the silence was starting to get to her, and she was running out of options. So she said it.

"These shoes are really uncomfortable," she blurted.

He met her eyes, but instead of the disgusted sneer she was expecting, he actually looked…amused. Hermione felt her cheeks flushing as the seconds passed where he didn't say anything, and she squirmed in her chair.

"Is that so, Miss Granger?" Snape purred at last.

She cleared her throat. "Yes. I don't like high heels. Well, not this high, anyway. I understand why they're used, because they accentuate the length of the leg and they're therefore aesthetically pleasing to some people, but honestly, this length is just ridiculous. I've felt as though I've been wearing nails on the bottom of my feet the whole night."

His brow quirked. "You are a witch, are you not?"

She frowned, not understanding. Snape sighed and pulled out his wand as a reminder, tapping it on the edge of the desk. Hermione started.

"Oh! Right. Well." She cleared her throat again. "I-I couldn't find anywhere to fit my wand in this, and—"

"You did not bring it with you," he finished, sounding displeased.

She shook her head, abashed. "No."

Snape stood and stepped around the desk, then put out his hand. Hermione furrowed her brow, then pulled off her left shoe and handed it over when she noted he was still holding his wand. He pointed at the heel, then paused and arched a brow at her.

"I assume two inches is an acceptable height?" he prompted.

Hermione nodded, unable to work past the lump that had suddenly sprung up in her throat. He tapped the heel and it quickly transfigured to a shorter length. He handed it back, but kept his hand out for the other shoe, and transfigured it as well. She put both shoes back on and he stood over her, waiting, it seemed. She looked up at him from the chair, ignoring the tingle that went through her stomach when she realized his proximity. Not to mention her vulnerability in this position.

"Thanks," she managed to croak.

"Do not let me catch you without your wand again," Snape hissed.

"Of course, sir."

He shot her a last look and then went back around the desk, seating himself and stretching languidly in the chair. He set down his wand and picked up his cup again, taking a slow sip. Hermione sighed, crossing her legs again and taking another drink as well.

"Are you enjoying your new position?" Hermione asked, hit with sudden inspiration.

Snape's eyes flicked sharply over her. "It has not been new for three months now, Miss Granger."

She sighed. "I know, but I never asked before this. And I know you were after the job for years before Professor Dumbledore finally gave it to you."

"It is…satisfactory," he growled lowly.

"I suppose you don't miss Potions class much," she said with a chuckle.

He looked at her critically. "And what makes you think that, Miss Granger?"

"Well, you hated teaching a group of students who couldn't do it properly, didn't you?" She paused while he absorbed that. "I'm sure all the misbehaving didn't help. Potions are very dangerous to make, and none of us really seemed to be able to appreciate that. We all should've taken it, and you, more seriously. I'm sure it was frustrating."

Snape gazed at her over the rim of his cup, then took a slow drink. Hermione sighed and looked down into her half-empty drink. He had this amazing way of shutting people down, and he certainly executed that ability with her whenever he felt like it. She supposed it was part of that powerful presence she loved so much about him. She was just wishing he would share some of that brilliance with her, open up just a little, when he spoke.

"You seem to have taken a renewed interest in the subject since Professor Slughorn took over the position," he commented silkily.

Hermione frowned slightly. "It has nothing to do with the teacher, I assure you."

"I surmised that much from your less-than-flattering comments about him at our last private lesson," he replied, still watching her closely.

"Well…he _is_ a tad more open to discussion than you were, at least," she retorted, feeling a bit stung at his tone.

He scoffed. "Slughorn's capabilities in discussing anything are limited at best."

"Are you implying that you're more capable of having a discussion than he is?" Hermione asked, unaware of the fire brightening her eyes.

"There's no need to imply—it's simply a fact," he shot back, sitting up a fraction in his chair.

"Prove it," she challenged, smirking when Snape's eyes shot to hers.

For a moment, Hermione thought he was going to yell at her and kick her out, but instead he relaxed into his chair and nodded.

"Very well, Miss Granger. What would you like to discuss?"

Hermione considered this for a long moment. "How about…the use of belladonna versus aconite in truth serums?"

Snape's lips twitched again and he reached across to take her cup, then rose to fill both of them. As he poured, he started off the discussion.

"Well, then. Obviously, aconite is the more poisonous of the two. However, belladonna has been known to be more effective when used with…."

* * *

Hermione smiled blissfully in her sleep and stretched her arms as she rolled over to find Crookshanks curled up on the pillow next to her. He blinked open his eyes and purred at her, giving her his little cat-smile. She grinned and sighed contentedly, running her fingers through her hair and rubbing at the scalp, where she could still feel the strain of her hair being pulled up.

"Good morning, Crookshanks," she said happily. "How are you this morning?"

Crookshanks chirped and she laughed, stroking his head.

"I'm good, too. I'm fantastic."

"Someone's been hiding a little more from me than I thought."

Hermione lifted her head sharply and found that Ginny was standing just inside the door, arms folded. The redhead was clearly displeased. A little panicked, Hermione glanced at the other two beds, but Lavender and Parvati had already abandoned her. Crookshanks just blinked at Ginny and then lowered his head to go back to sleep. _Traitor_, Hermione thought.

She sat up slowly, leaning against the headboard.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, half-wary and half-innocent.

"The mysterious 'he' you were so worried about thinking you were ugly," Ginny said flatly, frowning. "I didn't press you at the time, because you were so freaked out, but now that you're obviously feeling better…."

Hermione shifted in the bed, wishing she could just crawl under her covers and disappear.

"So…who is he?" Ginny asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"No one. It was just a general 'he,'" she said hastily, feeling a little proud of her quick-thinking.

"Don't believe you." She scowled. "Just another secret you're keeping from me, I suppose?"

Hermione sighed and avoided her eyes, her good mood quickly draining.

"And are you going to keep it a secret why you're so happy this morning when you had detention with Snape last night? And an extremely late one, at that," Ginny snapped irritably. "What did he even give you detention for?"

"Who told—"

"Harry told me Snape dragged you out of the party last night."

"Well…I-I forgot my wand," Hermione stammered, recalling that he _was_ displeased with her about that.

Ginny stared at her, incredulous. "He gave you detention because you forgot your wand?" Then something seemed to occur to her and her eyes lit up. "He gave you detention…because you forgot your wand. Huh."

"Yeah, he told me it was stupid to have forgotten it, and that a wizard or witch always needs to have it on them," she hurried on, since Ginny seemed to be buying it.

She wasn't listening, though. "What did he have you do for detention?"

"Oh…n-nothing much. Just scrubbing cauldrons," she managed.

"Seems like an awfully light punishment," she observed.

Hermione cleared her throat. "He wanted me to get out of there as soon as possible, I'm sure."

"But you ended up staying late."

"They were _really_ dirty cauldrons." She paused. "And I was doing it without magic."

"So it sounds like he was pretty awful to you," Ginny said nonchalantly, as though she hadn't just been scowling at her a few minutes earlier.

"Oh, no, he wasn't." She almost kicked herself. "I mean, you know, for Snape."

Ginny nodded, but Hermione recognized that suspicious look in her eye. This wasn't over yet.

* * *

Fortunately for Hermione, Christmas break came and she was left with two weeks without having to worry about what Ginny did and didn't know. She visited the Burrow on Christmas Eve so she could give her presents out to her friends, but that was only a day of torture. Ginny didn't give one hint that whole day, which was actually somehow worse. She had a lovely Christmas with her parents, though, and then school started again.

Hermione went back to her now-normal routine of researching, doing homework, going to class, altering spells and wand movements, bettering potions instructions, and going to private lessons. She wasn't able to keep him completely out of her mind again, which Professor Snape seemed to think was because of lack of practice. Really, it was because of practice—just the kind where she kept her less appropriate thoughts in the back of her head. Or at least tried.

Over the next few months, Hermione grew a bit braver during class. Now she would openly correct the teachers, giving them alternate wand movements, equations, and instructions that worked better than the ones they taught the students. Slughorn just ate it up. The rest of the teachers seemed slightly taken aback by her sudden penchant for thinking, except for Snape.

Of course, she never corrected him in class. Now, she took the opportunity of her private lessons to bring up better ways and discuss things with him. To her surprise, he never shut her down again, and in fact took her theories seriously. They often spent half of what would normally be time to train with Occlumency discussing better ways to do a spell or potion, and Hermione was just delighted every time she had to go to their lessons.

The intellectual thrill of their conversation never wore off. Snape was so amazingly intelligent and impressive, and his voice was calming and exciting to her in equal measures. She could've just sat there for days listening to him talk. All this happiness, of course, came with a price.

Ginny was growing steadily more suspicious, but while she still grilled Hermione about her other secrets, she left the private lessons alone. Which was just awful. It was just as bad as Christmas Eve, only it lasted longer.

Hermione tried ignoring it, but soon Ginny seemed to go back to that state that was normal for her—grilling her about every little thing she thought she wasn't telling her about. Little did Hermione know, Ginny had already gotten the answer to one of her questions.


	7. Sixth Year: Part Three

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I still don't own this.

* * *

Ginny eyed Snape from behind a curtain of red hair while she tapped her quill on the desk, pretending to still be writing. He'd assigned an in-class essay that she should've been working on, but she just couldn't help herself. Ever since that morning she'd spoken to Hermione about that detention, she hadn't been able to let it go. Her suspicions were on red alert now. Did Snape really like Hermione? She just had to find out.

She was extremely frustrated with Hermione's secrets—not even one hint this whole time, and she'd been bugging her for over a year now. It didn't help that Hermione was obsessed with this little vial she wore around her neck and kept sniffing every chance she got. She hardly ever paid attention when Ginny spoke anymore.

But Ginny had to find out _someone's_ secret. It was absolutely killing her. And Snape seemed the likeliest target, since he apparently enjoyed Hermione's company so very much that he was giving her private lessons and random detentions for doing absolutely nothing wrong.

So Ginny did the only thing she could think of to do in that moment. She scribbled down the rest of her essay, set down her quill, and leaned far over to tap Erica's arm. The blonde held up a finger, then quickly jotted something down, and turned to face her.

"What's up?" she whispered.

Ginny grinned. "Did you hear? Cormac McLaggen has his eye on Hermione Granger," she stage-whispered, making her voice just loud enough to reach Snape.

She heard the movement of his quill pause while Erica reacted to this.

"No way!" she gasped.

"Way! And I think Hermione might like him back," Ginny whispered excitedly. "She said he has a cute smile!"

"Really? So do you think he's going to ask her out?" she asked, bouncing in her chair a little.

Ginny glanced at Snape, who had stopped writing altogether. He had his head down still, so she couldn't see his face, but he looked like he was gripping that quill really tightly. _Just lay it on a _little_ thicker_, she thought, encouraged by his reaction thus far.

"He already did!"

"No way!"

"Yeah! Hermione told him she would think about it," Ginny continued, giving a little giggle. "I think she might say yes! He sent her a note at lunch, and she read it, smiled, and put it _in_ her bag!"

Erica clapped silently. "This is so exciting! Oh, I hope she says yes. Cormac is so cute—_and_ he's a Quidditch player!"

"I know! And he's second-string, which makes him _so_ much better than third-string," she replied, grinning. "She sure has a thing for awesome Quidditch—"

"Miss Weasley!" Snape suddenly bellowed.

The entire class jumped and looked up at him where he towered over them. His face was red and he was wearing a terrifying scowl, but all Ginny wanted to do was grin. She was _right_! He was totally and completely in like with Hermione! She tried to give him an innocent look while Erica pretended she'd been doing her essay all along.

"This is a classroom, not a social hour," he snarled, glaring so hard she thought he might burn a hole in her robes. "Twenty points from Gryffindor—" her classmates groaned "—and detention at six tonight."

He turned away and Ginny couldn't help but grin, in spite of the reproachful looks from her fellow Gryffindors. And for the rest of the class period, whenever Snape shot her one of those horrible scowls, she would just smile to herself when he looked away and mentally scold him for pretending to be such a toughie.

* * *

Ginny trotted down the stairs to Snape's office, literally unable to keep the bounce out of her step. She was just too giddy with this news. She'd spent the entirety of dinner giggling to herself and trying not to scream it to the whole room. Hermione shot her a few annoyed looks, but mostly just read and kept sniffing that vial. Ginny was seriously starting to worry about the contents of that vial—Hermione sure seemed to be addicted.

Brushing this aside for the time being, Ginny knocked three times on Snape's door and was just about to add a fourth for good measure when he snapped, "Enter."

She swung open the door and hopped right in, biting her lip to keep from grinning. Snape leveled a glower at her and continued grading something.

"So…scrubbing cauldrons?" she prompted after he ignored her for several moments.

"Yes, Miss Weasley," he grumbled, gesturing to a pile in the corner of the room.

Ginny briefly wondered if he had dirtied some just to make her detention longer and more miserable, but then shrugged it off and got to work. While she worked, she couldn't help but observe the professor with a critical eye. She wondered how Hermione had caught his eye. It wasn't like Snape liked anyone—they were all idiots, in his eyes. And even though Hermione was exceptionally intelligent (Ginny privately thought that she could rival Snape), Snape always just seemed annoyed by her.

Not that she got to see much of their interaction, since she was a grade lower than Hermione and all, but from what Hermione, Harry, and Ron said, he hated all of them equally. He'd even made Hermione cry once when he said she was buck-toothed. Ginny gasped. "_He'll be thinking how stupid I am to even try to be pretty because I'm such a beaver-mouth_."

_Oh, my God_, Ginny thought, shocked. Was it possible that that was who Hermione was talking about? Did she actually like Snape back? That was even weirder than thinking Snape was actually capable of human emotion, especially toward Harry Potter's Gryffindor best friend who also happened to be a Know-It-All. Although…Ginny could see why Hermione might like him. Viktor Krum was the same surly, big-nosed type guy, so maybe that was just Hermione's type. And Snape _was_ really smart, which would be something Hermione would be extremely attracted to.

Ginny shook the notion off for the time being. The chances of Hermione being attracted to Snape were slim to none. It was easier to see it the other way around. She giggled when she thought of Snape writing Hermione poetry.

"Miss Weasley," Snape snapped, glaring daggers at her again, "is it too much to ask of you to work _silently_? Your gossiping and giggling and flitting about is not welcome in my classroom."

"Oh, but, sir, I _love_ gossiping!" she said eagerly, ignoring the apparent annoyance on his face. "For instance, did you hear about Hermione? At dinner, Cormac McLaggen asked her if she'd thought about it and she turned him down! I seriously wonder about her sometimes. I mean, here she is, smartest girl in her year, surrounded by all these totally _hot_ guys: Harry, Cormac—even Neville is kind of cute! Not to mention, Draco, who was totally checking out her arse the other day. You just know he was. And people seem to think my brother is hot, and Hermione turns down every single one of them. It makes me think she has a secret crush she's just not letting on about. Honestly, how else could she turn down these guys? She's not interested in any of them! At all!"

Throughout this speech, Snape's angry scowl started to lighten, just the tiniest bit. It was a very faint switch, but Ginny never missed a trick. She wanted to grin at him, but she figured that would be taking it a bit too far. Still, he'd just confirmed what she already thought.

"Fascinating, Miss Weasley," Snape purred, never betraying his hidden interest. "Now if you would kindly get back to work, and allow me to get back to mine, you may be able to leave early enough to share these theories with someone who cares."

Ginny almost laughed, but instead just nodded and started scrubbing again. She could tell he was secretly pleased—he let her out early.

* * *

When Ginny returned to the common room, she found Lavender and Parvati on the far end of the couch, discussing makeup and helping each other with their nails, while Hermione sat in the armchair, alone, reading. Ginny grinned to herself and sauntered up, plopping down near Hermione with a sigh. Harry looked up from his wizard chess game with Ron and waved at her, beaming. She waved back and returned his smile before turning her attention back to Hermione, who hadn't looked up. Except to sniff that vial again.

"Snape was absolutely _vicious_ tonight," Ginny groused dramatically.

"Well, you interrupted his class," Hermione said without looking up. "He's bound to be a bit upset with you."

"He wasn't even teaching, though!"

"You still made a disruption, and you should know by now how he hates that."

Ginny frowned and decided to change tactics. Hermione was just being her usual rule-abiding self, and that wasn't revealing a thing.

"I have to tell you something," she said slowly.

Hermione glanced up. "Hm?"

"Oh…but I can't!" she groaned, dramatically. "I really want to, though!"

"Okay," Hermione said, shrugging and looking back down at her book.

"It's really something," Ginny teased, trying to rile her up. "I wish I could tell you."

Hermione sighed and looked up again. "Now you know what it feels like to have a secret." Ginny opened her mouth, but Hermione held up her hand. "I know the concept is foreign to you, seeing that you tell everyone any secret you may have had, but it's okay. All you have to do is _not_ tell anyone and wear an 'I know something you don't know' smile. It'll drive people nuts, believe me."

Ginny blinked, surprised. "Really?"

"Really."

"How's this?"

She tried her best mysterious smile, but Hermione frowned.

"That looks more like 'Let's go out tonight.' Try less eyebrow waggling," she instructed.

Ginny tried again and Hermione nodded, going back to her book.

"Better."

"Well, you know…it's not _my_ secret," Ginny said, leaning closer to Hermione.

"Doesn't matter. You still know something I don't know."

"Won't that drive _you_ nuts?"

Hermione shrugged. "For a while."

Ginny sighed. She wasn't even interested. She decided to change tactics.

"Okay, fine, if you don't want to know, I won't tell you," she said quietly. "But it's about Snape."

Hermione slammed her book shut and stood. "Stop it."

Then she promptly stomped away and up the stairs. Ginny smiled—that was a promising sign of the weirdness that would be Hermione liking Snape. She sighed contentedly and went about the business of playing vixen with Harry, who was watching her from across the room.

* * *

Ginny's knowledge of this secret didn't, of course, lessen her will to find out about Hermione's secrets. In fact, she just got worse about it, until Hermione took to avoiding her whenever she could. Of course, even when she couldn't, she was hardly paying the girl any mind. The vial of Amortentia she kept around her neck now thoroughly captivated her attention.

Hermione knew she'd been getting a little more attached to it than necessary, but in light of her lessons with Snape and her lack of ability to get closer to him, she felt it was the only way she was able to get through the week. Of course, she supposed she was closer to him than she had been at the beginning of the year. After all, she saw him constantly now, and he wasn't as scathing with her as he used to be. And they had all those wonderful conversations that still left her with a feeling of morning-after bliss.

But it wasn't enough. Hermione could distract herself with all the Occlumency practice, research, and Amortentia she wanted, but there was no denying her desire for Snape's attention—his romantic attention. Especially those nights when she would wake up, panting and hot, from a dream where he gave her more of himself than he'd ever give anyone.

The Amortentia and Hermione's studies were a comfort to her in those times, but they didn't make up for the growing emptiness she felt each and every time she had to leave his classroom and his presence.

Gryffindor that she was, though, Hermione continued on as she had been for months now: correcting textbooks, correcting teachers, and spending more time with her nose pressed to the top of a vial than she ever thought she would.

* * *

Dumbledore sat at the head of the table for the second to last monthly staff meeting and went through the mess of papers in front of him. He certainly hoped that was all he was supposed to cover for that day—otherwise he'd have to cover ten times as much at the next meeting. The professors were all shifting in their chairs, like they always did near the end of a meeting. They reminded him of students again when they did this, especially Severus. Of course, Severus never exactly squirmed in his chair, but he grew increasingly agitated and, during a quiet spell, Dumbledore could often hear his foot tapping against the stone floor.

Giving up on his search for more matters to discuss, Dumbledore plopped the papers down and smiled at his staff.

"I believe that's all we have to discuss," he began, but, seeing the look on Minerva's face, he paused. "Unless there is something one of you would like to add…."

To his surprise, it wasn't Minerva who broke the ensuing silence, but Filius, who cleared his throat and shifted in his chair.

"Headmaster, we—_I_ have…well." He stopped and cleared his throat again. "See, Miss Granger is…is in her sixth year currently."

Dumbledore wasn't sure where this was going, but he nodded benevolently and waited for Filius to go on. It wasn't him who continued it, though.

"She's a _lovely_ girl," Pomona blurted, looking sheepish. "But…well, she's been…_adding_ to lessons quite a bit."

"Adding?" Dumbledore echoed, confused.

There was another silent spell, and Dumbledore could, again, clearly hear Severus' boot tapping the floor impatiently.

"Correcting," Pomona amended.

"It's true," Minerva said at last, looking relieved. "She's taken to correcting me in class."

"And me," Filius added.

All of Hermione's teachers, except for Severus, made sounds of agreement.

"What do you mean…correcting?" Dumbledore asked at length.

"The class was learning a Cushioning Charm last week," Filius said quickly, as though he'd practiced this. "And I was telling them how to do the wand movement, and she interrupted! She told us a _better_ way to do it, and she was right! Not only was the wand movement easier, but it cushioned _better_!"

"Yes! And I was teaching the class to calm Strangling Vines and she told me that she and Mr. Longbottom had come up with an easier way!" Pomona exclaimed, eyebrows rising to the brim of her hat. "And it actually _was_ easier."

"She had a more effective way to transfigure liquids," Minerva put in, sounding amazed.

"Let me get this straight," Dumbledore said, before anyone else could add their two cents. "Miss Granger is coming up with improved ways to do things, on her own, and sharing this knowledge in class?"

They all nodded rapidly.

"Is she being rude about it?" Dumbledore inquired, confused.

"Oh, no! Hermione is as polite as she ever was," Minerva said hastily. "We all adore her. But…."

"We just feel that she's…too far ahead," Filius continued, frowning slightly.

"She knows everything already," Aurora agreed, sighing.

"I don't even teach her anymore," Septima admitted. "There's nothing left to teach. She knows more than me."

The other professors patted Septima sympathetically and Dumbledore blinked, confused. He didn't really understand the problem. Miss Granger understood the material better than any student even before she started this…whatever it was. His professors had always had a soft spot for her because of it, but now she was thinking for herself, making improvements, and there was an issue?

"Do all of her professors feel this way?" he asked after a moment.

They all, except for Horace and Severus, nodded emphatically and began trying to talk over each other to tell more tales of Miss Granger's brilliant upgrading of spells and more.

"Severus?" Dumbledore cut in, eyeing the silent younger man.

Severus' black eyes flicked to Dumbledore and he reluctantly sat further up in his chair, drawing himself up regally.

"She has not made such disruptions in my classroom, Headmaster," he said simply.

Dumbledore thought that was all, but Severus took another breath.

"Miss Granger approaches me during private lessons with such improvements," he continued, that faint quirk that Dumbledore recognized as pleasure curving at Severus' lips. "To discuss them."

The professors buzzed with conversation at this and Dumbledore could clearly see Severus' amusement hidden beneath his scowl.

"Private lessons?" Dumbledore prompted.

It rang a bell, but he couldn't quite remember….

"I informed you that I would be giving Miss Granger Occlumency lessons last fall," Severus reminded him, amusement fading.

"Right, right. Of course. I remember now." Dumbledore glanced over at Horace, who was grinning. "Horace? What about you?"

"Oh, Hermione has been _quite_ vocal in my classroom," Horace announced delightedly. "She has four books for class now, all of which she brings every time. I believe they are notes on ways to improve, although two are textbooks for the class."

"Two textbooks for class?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Oh, yes, one is an old battered thing I gave Harry at the beginning of term, but I believe they switched books," Horace replied, grinning. "It was already written in, but Hermione has been adding her own little notes."

"She has a book for notes for my class, too," Minerva interjected.

"Mine, too."

"Mine—"

Dumbledore waved a hand. "All right, all right. I don't believe I see the problem, but…what is it you want me to do about this?"

"We want Hermione to take her N.E.W.T.s early," Minerva replied immediately. "She has progressed far enough that she'll be able to pass them with flying colors."

Dumbledore stared for a moment. "I will approach Miss Granger about it. We will see if she will agree to taking her N.E.W.T.s with the seventh years."

There was an obvious release of tension in the room as all the professors breathed out. Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair again.

"Now, is there anything else?" There was silence. "Then, until next month."

* * *

Professor Snape had been trying to get into her mind all evening, but, to her delight, Hermione had been able to block him every time. Over the past months, she'd been blocking him with more frequency, but it had never been every time. He would, at least once, manage to push past her defenses and discover what had happened to her over the past few days.

Hermione felt lucky that she was so adept at blocking him now, especially since the dream she'd had the previous night had been one of the most graphic yet. She wondered if her attraction to him was stimulating her imagination.

Snape pointed his wand at her and again, said, "Legillimens."

Again, she blocked him from entrance and grinned widely, unable to hide her joy with her triumph. Snape straightened and watched her in her joy, lowering his wand to his side.

"Very good, Miss Granger," he said at last. "Your lessons are at an end."

Hermione was completely unprepared for both the shock that came with his words and the disappointment that flooded out any joy she'd just been feeling. Fortunately, her lessons had taught her, if nothing else, to keep her face composed, so she managed to mask her sorrow at his words and instead schooled her features into an expression of polite attention. She nodded once and rose from the chair, curbing the urge to step closer to him.

"Certainly took me long enough, didn't it?" she said as lightly as she could while on the inside she was so miserable at the concept of not seeing him each Friday evening.

"Actually," Snape purred, meeting her eyes and making her knees go a little wobbly, "you learned quite quickly. It takes most years to learn this sort of control over their mind."

"Oh."

Hermione didn't know what to say to this. That had probably been the closest he'd ever come to giving her a compliment. His eyes were still on her and she cursed mentally when she felt the heat creeping up her neck and tingles starting to spread through her fingers. In a dream, he would sense her need for him and immediately pull her body against his. But this was reality, she reminded herself. And if Snape knew what she was feeling, he would kick her out.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, then, Professor, thank you for this. It's been very important."

Snape nodded sharply and she sighed, avoiding his eyes for the moment. She cast about for anything, any excuse she could make to stay in his orbit. It was torture being alone with him but not able to touch him, but it was torture she couldn't live without now. It was her only way to be close to him, and she clung to it.

However, there was also no reason for her to stay. There was no excuse.

"I guess…good night, then," she murmured, trying to cut off the bit of moroseness seeping into her words.

"Good night, Miss Granger," he replied abruptly, fingers toying with the ends of his wand.

Hermione nodded, almost to herself, and strode past him in a rush. She had just closed the door behind her when she realized that there _was_ a reason she could use for staying. And, before she could talk herself out of it, she flung open the door and Snape whirled around, but she spoke before he could say anything.

"You know what the problem with using moonstone in sleeping draughts is?" Hermione asked fervently.

A flicker of amusement passed over his features.

"What is that, Miss Granger?" Snape inquired, folding his arms as he leaned back against his desk.

"It just doesn't do anything for them. The rest of the ingredients all make sense—they all serve the end result, but the moonstone does nothing!" she replied, fighting off a grin when he rolled his eyes.

"Don't give me that—only complete idiots believe that rumor. Which, by the way, was started by…."

* * *

Hermione inhaled deeply as she put the vial to her nose again. The scents again sent a rush of pleasure through her and she sighed lazily, smiling. Ginny, Harry, and Ron had gone to Quidditch practice, so Hermione was left with a whole two hours to simply sit and read in the quiet of an empty classroom. Well, a half hour, anyway. She'd already spent the first hour and a half reading the Prince's book over again.

The door creaked and she shifted in her seat, glancing back.

"Quidditch practice over ea—oh. Professor Dumbledore, sir," she said, surprised.

She leapt out of her chair and tucked her books close to her chest, feeling the sudden need to sniff that vial again and calm her nerves. Dumbledore smiled indulgently and ventured further into the room.

"I do hope I'm not disturbing you, Miss Granger," he said kindly.

She shook her head. "No, of course not. I-is there something wrong?"

"No, no. I simply wish to speak with you about something," Dumbledore replied, gesturing to a chair. "Please, sit."

In spite of his reassurances, Hermione felt the anxiety starting to wind its way through her, making her movements rigid as she sat. She took another whiff of the vial while she thought he wasn't looking and felt her muscles lax just a tad. Dumbledore pulled a chair over and sat across from her, still smiling that benevolent smile that always reminded her of a grandfather.

Hermione wondered briefly if this was about Professor Snape. After all, even though her lessons were over, she still came to his classroom for their Friday evening discussions. The first week after the lessons ended, she was afraid he'd feel she was intruding, or perhaps wouldn't be there. But, in fact, when she knocked, he came and answered the door himself, as though he'd been waiting for her.

Her anxiety swelled again. Maybe Dumbledore thought they were doing something inappropriate. Perhaps he thought Snape was taking advantage of her and wanted to fire him. She almost blurted that he would never do anything like that, but realized that her emotions were getting out of control and took a deep breath, coaching herself to relax.

"I have been approached by your professors and…they feel that you have progressed beyond their ability to teach you," Dumbledore said at last, examining her closely.

Hermione absorbed this and he waited, watching her as she processed. Sure, she had been doing some outside research and making a few suggestions, but she was still a student with a lot to learn. Wasn't she?

"They would like you to take your N.E.W.T.s early," he continued, twinkling his eyes at her. "I have checked with the Ministry, and you may take them with the seventh years at the end of the school year. Of course, this would mean that you would be leaving Hogwarts a year early."

"But I don't want to leave!" she blurted, eliciting a wide smile from Dumbledore. "I mean…I love Hogwarts. And I was hoping to be Head Girl next year and—"

"I thought this might be your reaction," he interrupted, beaming. "Which is why I've come up with an alternative plan to you leaving immediately upon completing your N.E.W.T.s."

Hermione almost grinned. Good old Dumbledore. She nodded, gesturing for him to go on.

"There are five subjects in which you could gain a Master's position," Dumbledore explained. "Next year, rather than coming back as a seventh year, you could come back and take apprenticeships with whichever of the teachers you would like."

She practically bounced in her chair. "A Master? At my age?"

He just smiled. "Of course, you would have your own quarters, but you would still be allowed plenty of time to be with your friends. If you would like, you can even eat with them."

This time she _did_ grin.

"Oh, sir…I-I don't know what to say! I mean, thank you! I-I would love to do that!" she said excitedly, nearly reaching to give him a hug.

Dumbledore smiled that grandfatherly smile and stood.

"It's settled then. I will inform the teachers, and you, Miss Granger, should start studying for your N.E.W.T.s, although I doubt you need to," he told her with a wink.

Hermione beamed. "Of course, sir. Thank you."

He twinkled at her again and went to leave, but paused and turned back, looking puzzled.

"May I ask…what is that around your neck?" Dumbledore asked curiously, gesturing to the vial she'd been toying with.

"A sample of Amortentia."

_Oh, shite_.

* * *

Hermione squirmed in the uncomfortable wooden chair while Dumbledore frowned across at her. He hadn't been mad—no, instead he was just "concerned." After he sent a portrait to fetch Professor Slughorn and Professor Snape, he'd asked Hermione a few questions. Which she answered. Only, much like her essays for class, she answered far more than she needed to. It was frighteningly like her experience of being poisoned in fourth year.

The more she said about it, the more "concerned" Dumbledore got. He seemed to think she was addicted to it, but he didn't blame her. In fact, he was treating her like a victim. He'd taken the vial and set it on his desk, which Hermione found incredibly cruel. It wasn't fair to set it just out of her reach that way.

"Is there any more of this substance that you've made?" Dumbledore asked, his twinkle fading with worry.

Hermione sighed as her mouth opened automatically. "Yes. There's a vat of it on my nightstand that I sniff in the morning and before I go to bed. It's quite soothing, actually, especially when you have such a busy schedule as I do. Quite the stress reliever."

"And has anyone else been affected by it?" he added.

"Nope. Ginny saw me sniffing it once, but I don't think she knows what it really is," Hermione babbled. "You could ask her, though. She's probably out of Quidditch practice by now. In fact, she could probably go get it for you since she knows right where it is, and you seem to want to take all my Amortentia away."

Dumbledore sighed. "I hope you understand, Miss Granger. It's a controlled substance for a reason—which you've displayed quite well."

He did, she noted, send a note to Ginny, using Fawkes. Hermione was about to tell Dumbledore she thought she might have been poisoned again, when the door opened behind her. When she turned in her seat, she blanched and whipped back around. She'd been hoping he'd be too busy to come.

"You wished to see us, Headmaster," Snape said silkily as he stepped into the room, preceding Slughorn.

"Oh, Severus. Horace. Yes, Miss Granger here has somehow been exposed to Amortentia," Dumbledore explained quickly, pacing toward them. "She's formed a frightening addiction to it, and I'm afraid I'll need your help."

"Only to the smell," Hermione said defensively. "I never drank one drop."

All three men turned to look at her, but she didn't back down. They spoke quietly on the other side of the room for quite some time before the door opened again and in came Ginny, holding Hermione's container of Amortentia and looking extremely confused.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?" she prompted, shooting Hermione a puzzled glance. "I brought it."

"Very good, Miss Weasley. Please, set it on my desk."

Dumbledore hurried over and sat in his chair, gesturing for Ginny to sit as well. She did, though she shot Hermione another baffled glance. She noticed Slughorn and Snape for what was apparently the first time, for her brow furrowed. She shook her head and then faced forward.

"Do you know what this is, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, patting the container cautiously.

Ginny blinked. "Um…she said it was broom polish…?"

"It's Amortentia," he corrected seriously.

He looked like he was about to go on, but Ginny interrupted.

"_Oooh_! Of _course_! That's why it smelled that way, because of course _I_ would smell that," Ginny said, looking pleased. "I knew you didn't _really_ like the smell of broom polish. Is that what was in the vial, too?"

Before Dumbledore could answer, Hermione blurted, "Yes."

"No wonder you were so obsessed. It _does_ smell good…." Ginny shook her head, as though clearing it. "Anyway. What are your Amortentia smells?"

"Freshly mown grass, new parchment, old books, and sandalwood," Hermione rattled off, wincing with each word.

"Why wouldn't you tell us that?" Ginny asked, confused. "It's…_oooh_. All right. Okay, because of course you don't smell fresh laundry, because that would smell like Ron. Nor broom polish, because that would indicate Harry. The sandalwood is the last part which means it's Professor Snape!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

There was a three-way gasp in the room. Hermione glanced frantically back at Snape, but he just stared blankly at her. She glowered at Ginny.

"It is not," she said, immediately flinching. "I just lied."

Ginny laughed. "I knew it! It's so Professor Snape. It totally makes sense, too. Why you keep all those secrets. Your boggart must be…Snape rejecting you!"

"No, it's not. It's Ron and Harry being disgusted with me and yelling at me when they find out I'm in love with Severus," Hermione blurted, then clapped her hand over her mouth.

"And that's what you talked to Lupin about after Harry and Ron left! You made sure he wouldn't say anything, right?" Ginny shot back, on a roll.

Their conversation was going too fast for any of the three wizards to interject now.

"Yes, I blackmailed him," Hermione answered, panicking big time. "Please, stop, Ginny."

Ginny didn't seem to hear her. "I can't believe you're telling me all this, but…what's the happiest memory you used for the Patronus?"

"A dream that Severus smiles at me."

"And what do you see in the Mirror of Erised?"

"Myself in Head Girl robes, in a Potions lab, with Severus."

Hermione panted frantically, desperate to look at Snape, but terrified to as well. Ginny looked absolutely ecstatic that her best friend had finally revealed all, and Slughorn and Dumbledore just looked stunned. Hermione's mind raced. How could she get out of this? What had happened? Was she poisoned again?

"Someone must've slipped me Veritaserum," she said to herself. "Did you?"

Ginny glanced at the men, alarmed. "Of course not. I mean…I'll admit I've considered it, but I would never do that to you."

"It must've been Malfoy," Hermione concluded, glaring into middle space. "I _knew_ he and his friends were snickering about _something_. I can't believe this."

"I have misplaced some ingredients from my private stores over the last couple of weeks, Albus," Slughorn said suddenly. "I didn't realize—"

"Misplaced the ingredients to _Veritaserum_?" Snape snarled in what Hermione recognized as his deadliest tone. "You do—"

"Severus," Dumbledore said softly.

The men fell silent and Hermione panicked, turning to Ginny, who seemed the most likely to believe her.

"All this stuff could've changed and…I-I don't love Professor Snape." She flinched. "I just lied again."

"Oh, Hermione. I-I'm so sorry," Ginny said soothingly. "I can't believe even Malfoy would do something like that…."

Dumbledore cleared his throat while Hermione rubbed her forehead and Ginny rubbed Hermione's back and arm comfortingly.

"Severus, Horace. Do either of you, by any chance, have the antidote for Veritaserum on hand?" Dumbledore asked seriously.

"No, sir," Slughorn answered weakly.

Hermione didn't hear Snape reply and assumed that he'd gone off to vomit. She leaned into Ginny's comforting shoulder, trying to curl up into a ball and maybe disappear. Actually, she wanted to vomit first, too.

"Perhaps, Severus, you could…go and brew a batch for Miss Granger," Dumbledore said tentatively.

There was silence in the room and all Hermione could feel was Ginny's hand rubbing over her back, the uncomfortable tightening of her stomach as it squirmed and churned, and the sweat trickling down over her forehead as she panted away, feeling the heat coating her entire body. At last, a deep throat cleared itself and Hermione cringed as she recognized it as Snape's. Or Severus'. No reason to check herself now, she supposed.

"I think…I would like to speak to her…Miss Granger alone," Severus said slowly, betraying no hint of emotion in his voice.

There was another moment of silence. Ginny's hand movements stilled a moment, then resumed when she heard Hermione whimper softly. Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"Very well, Severus. Horace, Miss Weasley, come with me," he ordered, standing slowly.

Ginny started to move away, but Hermione gripped her arm and met her eyes, shaking her head.

"Please don't leave," she whispered.

Ginny glanced away for a moment. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

She patted Hermione once more and then broke out of her grasp. Hermione watched her go and waited until the door clicked shut and there was no sign of any of the three people who could have saved her from her horrible fate. It was completely silent again, and she could do nothing, she found, but stare at the door.

He knew. And yes, it was sort of Ginny's fault, but she hadn't known that Hermione had no choice but to answer with the truth. So it was really Malfoy's fault for being an arse. She'd never thought he'd take it this far. And now, because of a stupid boy with a grudge, Severus knew how she felt.

Severus cleared his throat again and Hermione jumped, but didn't turn to face him.

"Look at me," he ordered.

His voice was softer than she could ever remember it being when he addressed her, but not in that dangerous way he sometimes did, when she knew whatever she said next could either calm him or enrage him. She just sat there, now staring at the wood carving in the back of the chair as she gripped it with white fingers.

"Look at me," he repeated, more forcefully this time.

"I can't," she choked out.

And it was true, too. She was too frightened.

Rather than responding, she heard him step closer until finally his black robes came into view, where he sat in the chair Ginny had previously occupied. She could see him watching her, out of the corner of her eye. She kept her eyes trained on the wood beneath her fingers.

"The effects of the Veritaserum should wear off soon," Severus assured her, in that same quiet tone. "Assuming it was administered at breakfast."

Hermione nodded. "Ginny and I went to the lav. Malfoy must've slipped it in while we were gone," she reasoned.

Her voice sounded hollow.

"How long have you…?"

It didn't matter that he didn't finish the sentence, apparently. The Veritaserum kicked in anyway.

"I had a crush on you in first year. It just grew after that, especially after I looked into the Mirror of Erised." She took a deep breath. "I swore I was going to move on. In fourth year, after Viktor asked me to the Yule Ball, I told myself I was going to move on. But then…I couldn't. The feelings stayed, even though I pushed them out of my mind. I'm sorry."

Severus looked at her again. "Sorry?"

"I didn't mean to fall in love with you," she said weakly, feeling like she was going to either puke, cry, or laugh. "It was…it was an accident."

For a fraction of an instant, she thought she saw Severus smile, out of the corner of her eye. But then she figured it must have been a trick of the light, or a tear blurring her vision, because he stood and walked away. Hermione was starting to feel the strain of twisting her back the way she was, but she still couldn't bring herself to meet his eye directly. They were silent again, for just a moment.

"I will speak with the headmaster, Professor Slughorn, and Miss Weasley," he said flatly. "What was said will not leave this room. I recommend staying in your dormitory for the rest of the day, until the effects of the potion wear off."

Hermione couldn't help but look at him now. Severus stood a few feet away, arms folded behind him. He was looking down at her with neither hatred or love, both of which she had dreamt many times. Instead his face was simply…blank. Which was even more frightening.

"You may go," he said.

Hermione stared at her feet for a moment, then at him again, before she was finally able to pull herself out of her chair. She made it through the door without incident, and, although she was sure Dumbledore, Slughorn, and Ginny had all said something to her, she didn't remember what. Nor did she remember replying.

* * *

Late Sunday, Hermione lay across Harry's bed, hugging his pillow, while he sat uncertainly on the edge. Ron had reacted the worst—he'd made several noises of disgust throughout her tale, and when it was over, he'd stormed out without a word. Harry, on the other hand, didn't seem to know what to do. In spite of Severus' reassurances that whatever had been said wouldn't leave the room, she knew Hogwarts. Even if no one _did_ say anything, rumors would spread.

She knew for a fact that Ginny had been on her best behavior and hadn't said a thing. But there were already disdainful looks being passed at her. Well, they could've been at Ginny, Neville, and Harry, as well, since they'd ended up putting Malfoy in the hospital wing. They all three hexed him at once. Purely by accident, she was sure.

So Hermione felt she had no choice but to tell her closest friends, before they found out from somebody else. Neville didn't seem to care. He told her, "You love who you love. Even if they are a greasy bastard." She'd hugged him.

"Feel free to kick me out when it sets in," Hermione told Harry presently, though she was sure her voice was muffled since her face was mostly buried in the pillow. "In the meantime, I'm commandeering your pillow."

"Uh…I-I don't want to kick you out, Hermione," Harry said slowly. "I just…I just, uh…wow."

Hermione rolled over, propping herself up on an elbow. Harry was scratching the back of his head, looking dumbfounded.

"It's a lot to take in, you know?" he said at last.

She nodded. "Yeah."

Harry took another deep breath. "Um…I guess…all I want to know is why you didn't tell us."

"Well…at first it was because I didn't want to lose you as a friend," she explained, sitting up and curling a leg underneath her. "Then it was because I didn't want to lose both of you. And then I saw that boggart in third year and it terrified me. I thought, 'That's what'll happen if they ever find out. I'll lose them both and they'll hate me forever.' And I couldn't bear that."

"I don't hate you," he said immediately.

Hermione smiled weakly. "Thank you."

"I'm just confused. I mean, Snape?" Harry gave her one of his arched eyebrows and she almost laughed. "You're so…different. He's an ex-Death Eater, and he's grouchy and mean and greasy and he hates Gryffindor, and he—"

Harry paused for a long moment, seeing the increasingly distressed look on Hermione's face.

"He wears black all the time. I don't think he _knows_ about the six colors of the rainbow," he continued, more comically now. "And you know, his nose is huge. _Bats_ could live in there. I mean, that could be a problem when you're kissing. Bats could come flying out at your face. And have you ever seen him eat or sleep? Are you sure he's not a vampire? Plus, he's got this enormous, honking problem that I just can't accept."

Hermione, by this time, couldn't help but giggle, and she smiled at him.

"Oh, really? What's that?" she asked, preparing for the ridiculousness of what Harry was about to say.

But his grin faded and he turned sober.

"He doesn't deserve you," Harry said quietly.

Hermione sighed and shook her head at her best friend. He just looked at her with those forlorn eyes and she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. He tugged her against him when she started to pull away, wrapping her in a big hug. She closed her eyes and, for the first time since Dumbledore came into the classroom the morning before, she relaxed. When at last he released her, Hermione had to wipe her eyes of the tears that had started leaking out.

"Uh…how did he take it?" Harry asked hesitantly, brushing away a tear from her cheek.

She sniffled. "Um…fine, I guess. Scarily fine. He just kind of got quiet. And his face went blank. I'm kind of freaking out about it, actually. I'm thinking of not going to Defense Against the Dark Arts for a few weeks."

Harry looked panicked. "No! I mean, you can't not go! You're the only thing standing in his way!"

Hermione almost laughed again. "Standing in his way of what?"

"Of _killing_ me!"

She snorted. "Sev—Snape wouldn't kill you!"

"Oh, yes, he would. Every class period goes the same, all right?" Harry explained animatedly. "We go in, he slams the door and starts lecturing, and then I disagree with him and we start arguing like a couple of Thestrals over some meat. And _then_ you say something smart, or ask something smart, and he calms down and _doesn't_ kill me and goes on with the lecture. It never fails. Other people have tried it. Like that one time, _Malfoy_ asked a question, and Snape nearly took his head off. But then _you_ asked something and he was back to teaching like nothing happened."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, now, even if I _did_ come, he'd probably still kill you. In fact, he'll probably kill me, too."

She suddenly sobered along with Harry.

"Oh, no." Her face went white. "That's what he's going to do, isn't he? This is like some sort of crazy torturous plan he has. He's going to wait and make me think everything's fine, and _then_ he's going to kill me!"

"And with you gone, he'll kill me, too," Harry agreed, aghast.

"Oh, my—I…what do we do?!"

"We can _never_ ever be alone with him!" he said firmly. "And-and we'll have to leave class as soon as possible, and get there as late as possible!"

"And sit in the back!" she added. "And we'll just never, ever let him see us alone!"

"We'll make a pact. We will stick together at all times, except for class," Harry said eagerly.

"Yes! I will come to your Quidditch practices, even. And we'll just…we'll never let him get us alone!" Hermione agreed, nodding sharply.

"We'll shake on it."

And they did.

* * *

It was the last month of school, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to everyone that Hermione and Harry were scared out of their wits of Professor Snape. At first, they were just very quiet in class, refused to sit anywhere near the front of the room, and came and left as quickly as they could. But the more he ignored them and acted as if everything were normal, the more paranoid they became—to the point that when they saw him coming down the corridor, they would duck into an empty classroom. Hermione, at one point, scared the living daylights out of a group of girls when she flung Harry inside the girls' bathroom and slammed the door shut.

Ginny insisted that they were being absolutely ridiculous, and she saw no reason to freak out just because Professor Snape knew about Hermione's feelings for him. After all, she reasoned, he hadn't said anything to suggest that it made him mad. Which Hermione insisted was the problem—he hadn't said anything that indicated anything about how he felt about it.

Neville tried to convince them both on numerous occasions that if Snape were going to kill anyone, he would've already done it. And that Neville himself would be the first to go.

Ron was still disgusted with Hermione and refused to see her. Literally. He ran into her as he turned a corner at one point and just kept going, in spite of the fact that they'd both been knocked down when it happened. And since Harry was fine with Hermione, Ron refused to speak to him, too.

Harry, of course, wasn't perfectly hunky-dory right away. But the paranoia they shared over Snape's non-reaction to their existence bonded them even closer, and any confusion or disgust Harry felt over Hermione's love for Snape was more quickly washed away because of it. That and a conversation with Luna helped.

Hermione had no idea what the conversation had been about, but one day, Luna came over to where they sat by the lake and asked to speak to Harry. And when he came back, he was smiling and told her that everything was okay. He was a lot more at ease after that, and Luna came around a lot more often.

Luna was another of the few and the proud who were okay with Hermione having feelings for Severus. Hermione felt that Luna was a close enough friend to tell, even though she was, admittedly, a little weird.

When she told her, Luna just blinked and said, "That makes sense. Your croopers match."

Hermione blinked back. "Croopers?"

"They're the magic circles around people's heads that indicate how well-matched you'll be with someone. You can't see them without these, though," she explained, brandishing a pair of glasses that would've been normal, except that they were gigantic. "Yours and Professor Snape's are both ovals. And they're both periwinkle."

"Oh." Hermione paused, then shook her head. "Thanks, Luna."

Luna just smiled.

Hermione was starting to think that Severus was going to wait until the end of the year to drop the bomb on her. After all, his reaction hadn't exactly been a rejection. It was just a non-reaction. So he was probably waiting until she wasn't a student anymore to first reject her, and then kill her. And Harry.

She was just pondering the various ways Severus probably knew how to kill someone when Harry came hurrying up.

"Hermione! We've been called to Dumbledore's office," he told her, out of breath.

"Now?"

"Now! Let's go!"

She shot to her feet and they went, as quickly as they could, up the changing stairs to Dumbledore's office. Harry blurted the password and trotted past the gargoyle, then they went through the door and plopped in the two chairs across from Dumbledore's, panting for air. And then they realized that Dumbledore wasn't even there. Instead, Hermione was stunned and horrified to see Severus leaning back in the Headmaster's chair.

"Se—" She kicked her own shin and yelped. "Ow!"

Both men stared at her while she leaned down and rubbed her now-throbbing leg, wincing in pain. When she at last sat up and composed herself, Hermione could see the uncertainty all over Harry's face, but there was, once again, nothing to read in Severus'. He was as carefully blank as he had been ever since he found out about her feelings.

"I mean…Professor Snape," Hermione managed to choke past the lump in her throat. "Where's Professor Dumbledore?"

"He did not send the note," Severus explained, his eyes lingering on her much longer than on Harry. "I did."

Harry exchanged a terrified glance with her.

"There appears to have been some sort of miscommunication between us," Severus continued silkily, drawing Hermione's absolute attention in spite of her attempts to keep it casual. "I do not, nor have I ever, wished to kill either of you."

Hermione saw Harry glance at her again, out of the corner of her eye.

"How did you—"

"Your Occlumency lessons did not go well. Remember, Potter?" Severus hissed, and Hermione thought she saw a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

Harry ground his teeth together, and Hermione patted his hand, out of Severus' view. He must've seen her arm shift, though, for his penetrating gaze was suddenly on her, and that smirk was totally gone. She was taken aback by the sudden viciousness in his gaze and carefully retracted her hand, at which point that fire in his eyes disappeared and he went back to nonchalantly leaning back in Dumbledore's chair. She blinked, wondering what just happened.

"To make this clear, I have spent your six years at Hogwarts protecting you," Severus continued, his attention now back on Harry. "I do not plan to kill you now."

His sarcasm was so heavy she thought to tell him he was abusing the power, but she dutifully kept silent. When Harry nodded, indicating that he understood, Severus shifted his gaze away from him, clearly dismissing.

"You may go, Potter."

Harry stood. "What about Hermione?"

"I wish to speak with her alone," Severus replied, practically growling.

Harry's fists clenched. "Look, Professor or not—you hurt Hermione and I'll—"

"Harry," she said softly, lightly chiding.

"I mean it," he said darkly, keeping his eyes on Severus.

She expected him to deduct points, or to yell at him, or mock him, or something. What he did was the very last thing she expected. Severus stared up at Harry for a long, tense moment, and then an understanding seemed to pass between them. Severus dipped his head in a nod and Harry relaxed, patted Hermione on the shoulder, and left the room.

And then suddenly, all of Severus' attention was on her. She hadn't felt that for almost a month now, since she hadn't been showing up on Fridays for their evening discussions anymore. It was in equal parts exhilarating and intimidating. Hermione took a deep breath and schooled her expression into one of polite attention. He may send her body and mind into complete disarray, but that didn't mean she had to let him know.

"Whatever made you think I would want to harm you?" Severus said at last.

But it didn't sound like he was actually asking her. In fact, he was gazing across the desk at her almost absently, as though he were lost in his thoughts, and that one just managed to slip past his walls. So Hermione just shifted in her chair, but didn't answer.

He sat up slowly, still watching her. "I do not wish to kill you. Is that clear?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I know. I know underneath all the insanity, but I think I might've been undergoing some kind of nervous breakdown after you found out about my…. Anyway, I think my logic centers were shot to pieces. I'm sorry. It's just…when you didn't really…_say_ anything…. Well, I didn't know what to think."

"You are my student," he said clearly.

She nodded. "I know."

"Until you are no longer in that position, I am not at liberty to express my feelings on the topic," Severus explained, holding her gaze.

"Okay." Hermione took a breath. "Does this mean that things will be normal? At least until the end of the school year?"

"I believe you've accepted the position of apprentice," he said, surprising her.

"Um…yes, I have. I—"

"Then, until you've finished your apprenticeship, the situation between us will remain the same," he said lowly, sitting back in the chair once more.

"Okay."

She breathed out, not bothering to hide her relief. Severus scowled at her when he saw the smile on her face, apparently displeased with this reaction.

"I would also like to address the matter of my book."

"Your—"

"I believe you are in possession of a certain Potions book, property of the Half-Blood Prince," he said, almost sounding proud.

Hermione shot him a puzzled look. "Yes, I am."

"It is my old Potions book. When the school year ends, I would appreciate it if you would return it to me."

"Oh. O-of course."

She stared at him uncomfortably. No wonder the potions in that book had been so much better than the originals—Severus was a potions genius. She didn't know how to feel about the fact that she'd been so close to his younger self, in a way. But she didn't get a chance to think about it for much longer. He gestured toward the door.

"You may go."

"Thank you, sir."

She leapt out of the chair and hurried out the door to go find Harry, so they could celebrate their survival.

* * *

Only, it wasn't so much a celebration as a three-way argument in the Three Broomsticks. Her side of the argument wasn't helped by the amount of butterbeer she'd consumed. _Non-alcoholic my arse_, she thought irritably. Neville could've been supporting her side, but he was apparently too busy eating crisps to do so. Luna was also busy staring into space.

So Hermione was left to battle Ginny and Harry alone.

"I swear, he was going to kill us," Harry said determinedly. "Or at least me."

"I believe it," Ginny said with a sage nod.

"The whole point of tricking us up there was to _not_ kill us!" Hermione exclaimed. "Why would he kill us for me patting your hand?"

"Don't you see?" Ginny said insistently. "You admitted you're in love with him and then you go and make physical contact with Harry."

"I did not 'admit,'" Hermione said glumly, staring at the bottom of her glass.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter," she replied dismissively. "The fact is, he _knows_ now and you made him jealous. Any hint of affection for other males is now under suspicion."

"He thinks I'm competition," Harry agreed. "For all he knows, you could've changed your mind because of the whole 'he might kill me' thing, and now you're hunting elsewhere."

"Okay, 'hunting' is a creepy word to use there," Hermione commented. "And also, why would he be jealous? He doesn't want me. He made it quite clear. He told me, 'You are my student.' That clearly means, 'I am not interested.'"

"Nuh-uh! He _said_, and you told me this so don't even deny it, that he couldn't tell you how he feels until you're not a student anymore," Ginny retorted fervently.

"That could mean anything!" Hermione shot back. "That could mean he's going to tell me that he feels that blurting my feelings in the middle of Dumbledore's office was inappropriate. But it most likely means that he's going to tell me that he doesn't feel that way about me. End of story."

"If he wanted to reject you, he could've done it any time," Harry pointed out.

"Look, he was just abiding by the rules. Students and teachers aren't allowed to have relationships, so—"

"Is that actually _in_ the rules?" Neville asked curiously.

"—he couldn't say anything about it. If I hadn't been affected by the potion, it wouldn't have been right for me to say how I feel either," she continued, ignoring Neville's question.

"But if you hated him, it wouldn't be inappropriate," Ginny said coyly.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Well, I would get in trouble, but no, it wouldn't be an infraction."

"Then why would it be an infraction for Snape to tell you he doesn't like you that way?" she said pointedly.

Hermione glared at her, then picked up one of Neville's crisps and threw it at her. Ginny laughed and popped it in her mouth, chewing with gusto and swallowing dramatically.

She grinned cheekily. "Mmm, thanks."

Hermione was just about to use a few choice words when Draco Malfoy moved into view.

"Hey, Grang—"

"What do _you_ want, Malfoy?" Neville spat, standing.

Malfoy held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not here to start something," he said defensively.

Harry snorted. "Right. I'm sure you're just looking to make friends."

"I'm here to talk to Granger, if you don't mind," he snapped, glaring at the boys. "After you put me in the hospital for nothing, that's the least you owe me."

"What do you mean, 'for nothing'?" Ginny echoed, puzzled.

"I didn't slip anything into your pumpkin juice," Malfoy said, directly to her.

Hermione blinked. It was the first time he'd ever actually _talked_ to her.

"Then…who did?" she asked.

"Pansy. Millicent dared her, and I told her not to, but I guess she did it anyway," Malfoy explained, scowling.

Hermione sighed. "I guess so."

Malfoy shrugged and went to walk away, but she called after him.

"Draco!"

He whipped around, looking surprised.

"Thanks for telling me," Hermione said sincerely. "And I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions."

He hesitated a moment, looking uncertain. Hermione saw him lock eyes with Ginny for a moment, and Ginny smiled, just enough for him to find the courage to speak, apparently.

"It's all right," Malfoy said at last. "Not like I haven't given you plenty of reason to suspect me. And I would've assumed the same thing about you."

Hermione smirked. "Don't you mean you would assume that about Harry?"

Malfoy grinned—no malice in it. "Nah. He's too stupid to slip anything past me."

Harry started to react, but Ginny nudged him with her elbow. Malfoy shot Ginny and Hermione another grin, then strode away and disappeared into the crowd. Neville plunked down next to her again and Hermione glanced at Ginny, smirking knowingly at her.

* * *

The rest of the school year passed uneventfully, except for Hermione's N.E.W.T.s. The week before she had to take them was pure hell for her friends. She was like a maniac about studying, and wouldn't even come to their last Quidditch game because she insisted she needed the study time. The emotional events of the past few weeks had distracted her far too much, and she insisted on making up for lost time.

In class, Hermione was her now-usual self: not answering questions unless directly asked, but constantly helping to make improvements. However, most people still gave her a wide berth, because she tended to bite anyone's head off who dared speak to her. Her friendly acquaintances were most confused about this, since she was normally so nice to them. Harry and company gave them reassuring smiles as they followed along behind the walking, talking bad mood.

During Defense Against the Dark Arts, both Hermione and Snape were in such a sour mood that Harry found himself brave enough to lean across to Neville's desk and whisper to him.

"Perhaps they _aren't_ so badly suited," he whispered, grinning.

Neville nearly snorted, as did Ron, to Harry's surprise. Ron had been ignoring them for so long, he hardly remembered what Ron's smile looked like. Snape, unfortunately, noticed their apparent amusement, as did Hermione. First, Harry was kicked in the shin, and then he was yelled at. It was not a good day.

That was the beginning of Ron's acceptance, but he knew better than to disturb Hermione when she was in this mood. Harry did, however, have to warn him not to shoot Hermione too many longing looks, because, whether Hermione wanted to admit it or not, any male who showed interest in her, or who she showed interest in, was a potential dead man.

When Harry talked to her for too long at meals, he could feel Snape's eyes on him and when he looked up, there was that look on his face. It wasn't like any of Snape's other "angry" or "grumpy" faces—it was downright frightening, actually. His eyes were alight with a cold fire and his teeth were clenched together. He almost looked like a snarling wolf.

The week of her N.E.W.T.s, Hermione barely surfaced from taking exams, naps, and more study breaks. Which gave him a chance to talk to both Luna and Ginny, as Hermione had been telling him to for weeks. He and Ginny had been flirting with the idea of going out for so long that he didn't want to disappoint her by choosing Luna, instead. And he wanted to go out with Luna. So it was to his pleased surprise when Ginny told him to go for it and they agreed to be friends.

Then her N.E.W.T.s were over, and the old, pleasant Hermione came back out, much to everyone's relief. Including Ron's.

They were sitting in the common room with Ginny spread out on the floor in front of them when Ron came up to the back of the couch, hands stuffed in his pockets and looking anxious.

"Uh…Hermione?" he said softly, wincing.

Hermione glanced over at Harry and he shrugged, so she looked up at the redhead instead.

"Yes, Ron?"

"I-I'm sorry."

And just like that, everything seemed okay. Of course, Hermione made him suffer. There was always that little part of her that Harry was convinced put her in the category of "Slytherin." She made him carry her bags and, whenever he disagreed with her about something, she would toss her hair, fold her arms, and say that maybe she shouldn't have forgiven him after all. When he immediately groveled and told her she was right, Hermione would just grin across at Harry and toy with Ron a little more. He was offended every time he figured it out, but he fell for it every time anyway.


	8. The Summer

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it.

**A/N:** I apologize for the late update. I've been doing some major revising on the last few chapters, and my cat is also very ill, so I've been tending to him. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Also, my friend linlawless and I have started a site that you can find the URL to on my profile. It has all our SS/HG work, including site exclusives.

* * *

"_Things to do before leaving Hogwarts:_

_-Pack_

_-Kill Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode_

_-Return Professor Snape's book_

_-Return all borrowed books to the library_

_-Get more Withdrawal Aid Solution from M. Pomfrey_

_-Pray to Merlin Professor Snape doesn't change his mind and crush your heart into a million little pieces sooner, rather than later_"

Hermione scratched two of these items off her list, since she really didn't want to go to Azkaban, and she'd already prayed enough about that last one. Besides, true to his word, Severus was acting as though everything was perfectly normal. So she really didn't have to worry about it until the end of her apprenticeship.

She sighed and scratched off the first thing on the list as well, since the only thing she really had left to pack was Crookshanks.

As much as she adored Hogwarts, she was truly looking forward to going home this summer. She wouldn't have to worry about what Severus was going to do, or how to deal with the rumors, or how to deal with Ginny.

Ginny had stopped trying to find out all her secrets, thankfully, but now she was acting skittish around Hermione. Apologetic, almost. Hermione had wondered why she was suddenly acting this way when the incident had occurred a couple weeks ago, but then realized that Ginny had been rather protective during the past two weeks. Apparently, now that they were in the safety zone and about to leave, Ginny felt it was safe to indulge in her own insecurities.

Hermione also noted that Ginny had become rather friendly with Draco Malfoy. They gave shy waves when they saw each other, although they both looked away immediately afterward, embarrassed. Hermione wondered how such a relationship would work, with Draco's hatred of all things Gryffindor, and his disdain for the Weasley family. Not to mention, Draco's Pureblood mentality. He would want Ginny to act the part of the Pureblood wife, and Ginny was far too headstrong for that.

She shook her head of Ginny and Draco, for the time being, and decided she would take care of her book returns next. Hopefully, Severus wouldn't be in his office.

As much as she trusted his word, she couldn't help feeling awkward around him. Every time she looked at him, she was reminded of the fact that he knew how she felt. And then she would go through the same circular thoughts: wondering how he felt about it, reminding herself he could never feel that way about her, wondering if Ginny and Harry were right, etc., etc., until her mind was a jumbled mess of shame, frustration, and curiosity.

Hermione's hand itched to reach for where her Amortentia used to be, and she sharply reprimanded herself. Dumbledore had Madam Pomfrey make a special batch of Withdrawal Aid Solution for her, which she thought was nice, but completely unnecessary. Until she went through her first night without the Amortentia and, after getting up in the morning without having slept at all, decided that she really did need the help.

She was supposed to take it every night for three months, so she would have to see about stocking up for the summer. She would have to stop by the hospital wing after returning her library books, she decided, and then she would head down to the dungeons to return Severus' book.

It gave her chills just thinking about the fact that she had been so connected with him in a way. Her hand idly stroked the binding of his book and she almost smiled. It was kind of funny to think that his younger self had been the reason she started thinking and stopped being so annoying to his older self.

Hermione sighed and set down her list. Time to stop daydreaming about him and get moving. But before she could gather the books and go, Ginny appeared in the doorway, wringing her hands.

"Oh," Hermione heard herself say. "Hi."

She knew it wasn't Ginny's fault that Severus knew her secret, but over the past couple weeks, she'd felt herself putting distance between them, almost unconsciously. She supposed she couldn't help feeling a bit resentful, but it made her feel a bit guilty, since Ginny hadn't meant to do anything wrong.

"Hi," Ginny said quietly. She wasn't meeting her eyes. "I…um…what are you up to?"

Hermione glanced down at her list. "Just taking care of a few last-minute things."

"Oh."

The silence filled the space between them heavily, and Hermione grew steadily more uncomfortable with the awkwardness that had developed between them. She glanced at her list again and sighed. It seemed her entire life had become one big festival of awkwardness. She and Severus no longer shared that easy sort of friendship they'd developed through their discussions. She and Draco were now in uncharted territory, since they'd sort of reached a truce. And now she and Ginny could barely look each other in the eye.

At least Harry and Ron were back to normal, and Luna was as normal as she'd ever be.

"Hermione, I…" Ginny trailed off, blushing.

There was a short silence, and Hermione frowned, wondering what was proving so difficult for Ginny to say.

"All right?" she asked, hoping that would be enough to break the tension.

It wasn't, but Ginny straightened and looked her determinedly in the eye. Hermione found the Weasley Determined Look from the female side of the family rather worrisome, but she supposed it was because of the months on end of Ginny giving her that look and then digging through her secrets. She mentally braced herself for whatever was coming and waited.

"I'm no good at this, so please just wait until I'm finished," Ginny said firmly, taking a deep breath.

Hermione nodded when she didn't go on, and Ginny took another breath.

"I'm really sorry for what happened in Dumbledore's office," she said sincerely, firmness melting into lament. "If I had known you were under the influence of Veritaserum, I would've never pushed like that, especially not in front of them. I just thought…." She sighed. "I'm really sorry."

The stillness pushed in around them again and Ginny bowed her head, not meeting her eyes again. Hermione let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and she felt the tension drain out of her shoulders. That was exactly what she'd needed to hear—just that Ginny really _was_ sorry. She smiled warmly.

"It's okay, Ginny," she assured her, enjoying the look of half-masked surprise on her friend's face. "I know you didn't mean to."

Ginny looked so relieved that Hermione crossed the room to give her a hug. They embraced for a long moment and Hermione gave her one last squeeze before pulling away to find Ginny smiling at her.

"I'm heading down to get some more Withdrawal Aid and return my books. And I'll also be stopping by Professor Snape's office to return _his_ book," Hermione explained, managing to sound cheerful, even. "Want to come along for moral support?" She grinned.

Ginny's smile widened and she bounced on her heels.

"What are friends for?"

* * *

The trips to the library and hospital wing were short, although Madam Pince was a bit too thorough in her search for damage of the books. Hermione was pretty well convinced that Pince was determined to catch her damaging a book or turning one in late at least once. So she could die happy or something like that.

The last stop was Severus' office. Hermione half-hoped he'd be there and half-hoped he wouldn't. She was so torn lately. She sighed and steeled herself, then knocked on the door twice.

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who smiled supportively. When there was no answer, Hermione knocked again, but there was silence on the other side. She cracked it open and peered inside, but there was no one there. She breathed a sigh of both relief and disappointment.

"I'll just drop it on his desk real quick and then we can go to lunch," she informed Ginny, who nodded, smiling briefly again.

The door creaked noisily as Hermione slipped inside and she winced, hoping that he wasn't hiding on the other side of a door, waiting to hear that. She quickened her pace as she approached his desk, fueled by her anxiety. She gently set the book on the empty space by his quill and ink pot, giving it one last stroke to say goodbye, and then stopped to look around the office.

It looked just the same as when she'd last been there, but that was to be expected. She sort of liked how unchanging he was. It made him seem more dependable somehow.

Hermione took a deep breath and turned to go, wishing she could go back in time to the night of Slughorn's party, when everything became so comfortable. There was a creak behind her and she bolted for the door, panting heavily as she whipped it shut behind her. Ginny stared at her, bewildered.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking stunned.

Hermione bobbed her head and took Ginny's arm.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

The station was packed with parents and Hogwarts students. The first year's parents were among the easiest to find, since they were wringing their hands and practically bouncing with excitement. The Muggle-born first year's parents were even easier, however, since they looked a little green. One woman almost looked as though she could faint at any moment.

Hermione wondered idly if _her_ parents had been that anxious when she came home after her first year. She'd hardly noticed their expressions, she'd been so excited. Of course, she'd told them about her school and the new friends she'd made through letters, but it was so much more fulfilling to tell them in person. She'd especially enjoyed telling them how she'd helped Harry Potter prevent Voldemort's return, and how she'd solved Severus' riddle.

In hindsight, she wondered if telling them about all the dangerous things she'd done over the past year had been such a good idea. She could've given her father a stroke and her mother an ulcer.

"Well, looks like the Dursleys haven't come to pick me up," Harry said cheerfully.

"Good," Ron said with a mighty snort. "Maybe they've dropped dead. And now wild Thestrals are feeding on their—"

"Ron! That's disgusting!" Ginny admonished, cuffing him upside the head.

"Ow!"

"Oh, there's Mum and Dad!" she said eagerly, shoving past her keening brother.

The other three trailed behind and Mrs. Weasley wrapped them all in huge hugs, asking how the school year was. Hermione continued scanning the crowd for her parents, ignoring the chaotic family behind her. She _did_ catch a very brief conversation between Harry and Mrs. Weasley about where he would be staying for the summer. Apparently Harry was too young to stay at Grimmauld Place alone—Hermione quite agreed.

She was about to say her goodbyes so she could find her parents when she heard a deep, commanding voice behind her.

"Ah, the Weasley brood. I should've known it would be your herd standing in the way," Lucius Malfoy said in that boring tone that lulled you in just as he insulted you.

Hermione glowered up at him, not bothering to hide her disgust. He was a known Death Eater—there was proof—and just because he had money, he was free to do what he liked. Ron was leaning on Harry, recovering from nearly being bowled over by the pompous bastard.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said stiffly, gathering Mrs. Weasley and Ginny to his sides.

Malfoy ignored him in favor of examining the group with ice cold eyes. Mrs. Malfoy was hiding behind him—no surprise there—and Draco was busy watching his feet. Hermione wondered if he approved of his father's behavior, and if Ginny would be able to handle it if he did. She chanced a glance at her friend, who was watching Draco anxiously.

"I wasn't aware that you had two more children in your litter," Malfoy purred, eyeing Harry and Hermione sharply.

Harry bristled visibly, but before anyone could say anything more, Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder and whipped around.

"Mum! Dad!" she exclaimed excitedly, Malfoys forgotten. "Where have you been? I was looking for you!"

She swung her arms around her mother, who squeezed her tightly.

"Oh, I missed my girl," she murmured, kissing her cheek.

"We just arrived. The car broke down on us," her father explained, hugging her with one arm and taking her suitcase with the other.

Hermione picked up Crookshanks from where she'd set him and heaved a long-suffering sigh.

"Again? Are we going to have to take the bus?" she asked sourly.

She _hated_ the bus. All those people crammed into one little space made for a smelly atmosphere. And most buses didn't use the most environment-friendly fuel.

Before Dad could reply, Malfoy let out a low chuckle and Hermione whipped back around, standing defensively in front of her parents.

"Miss Granger, have you forgotten your status already?" Malfoy asked smoothly. "I suppose that simply proves how useful Muggle-borns are."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but Draco beat her to it.

"Father," he said sharply.

Malfoy turned to stare at his son, equal measures of shock and anger covering his features. Mrs. Malfoy had gone pale, looking quite frightened for her son, while the Weasley clan had just gone silent, stunned. Ginny, Hermione noted, was smiling to herself.

Hermione's mother, always the diplomat, cleared her throat.

"And who are these nice people, dear?" she asked, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

She took a breath, but was, once again, interrupted.

"I think we'd best be off," Malfoy said to his family, ignoring the people around him. "Draco."

He gestured with his cane, and Draco glanced at Ginny once before preceding his father out of the platform. The entire group felt the tension release and Hermione briefly told her parents that she would explain later before turning to her friends.

"I think we're going to head home now," she announced.

All three of them abandoned their conversations and pouted at her.

"D'you have to?" Harry asked. "Couldn't you come settle me in at the Burrow and alphabetize all my books? I'll even let you organize my clothes by color."

Hermione laughed and hugged him. "Thanks, but I have color coding and alphabetizing to do at home."

She hugged Ron and Ginny, then started after her parents, who'd been conversing with the Weasleys.

"I'll write every week!" she called back.

"Promise?" Ginny shouted.

Hermione laughed and waved, then trotted to catch up.

* * *

The summer weeks started going by far too rapidly for Hermione. She spent the first two weeks at home with her parents, who had to work most of the time, of course. She would eat breakfast at home, and after they left, she'd go the library and then to a café for lunch. When she'd finished lunch, she would finish reading the book she borrowed at home, snuggling with Crookshanks.

And, at last, her parents would come home and they'd share a nice family dinner and watch old TV shows on the new television set they'd owled her about. Once in a while, they would play a game, like Scrabble. Hermione usually won, even though they had a "no wizarding or dentistry terms" rule.

She received a letter from the Ministry about her N.E.W.T.s in the middle of the second week, informing her that she'd gotten all of them. Her parents thought she hurt herself or something when they heard her scream of delight. Her excitement was eventually outweighed by the depression that came with the urge to tell Severus how well she'd done, to see if she could read some sort of pride in his face.

At the end of the second week, they went to Paris, mostly to use up vacation time her parents had been saving up. Hermione took the opportunity to use her new camera, although she couldn't use the floating function in most places they went. She sent a copy of herself at the Eiffel Tower to the Burrow, which Ginny informed her was framed with several other family photos on the wall.

It was on her fifth night in Paris that an owl came flying through the window and straight onto her nightstand. Hermione finished buttoning up her nightgown and took the letter from its talon with a pet and a thank you. The owl tilted its head at her and waited as she broke the seal and began reading the lines.

Dumbledore was owling her about her options for her apprenticeship, which he expected her to decide on in the next week, so that her Masters could send supply and booklists. There were five subjects she could apprentice in: Arithmancy, Charms, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration.

Hermione knew right away she wanted to do all of them, but five apprenticeships in one year could be…well, difficult. Besides, she needed to start narrowing her subjects down to what she would actually need for her career. _Which…it would help if I knew what I wanted to do_, she reflected with a sigh.

She would do Arithmancy and Transfiguration for sure. Those were her two best and favorite subjects, and she had a feeling that whatever she ended up doing would definitely need adeptness in those areas. Charms was a close second in her best and favorites list, and there was no reason not to continue her study of it. Flitwick was a good teacher, after all, even if he wasn't her favorite.

She liked Herbology and she did fairly well at it, but she supposed that she could always do that apprenticeship later in life, if she needed to. After all, it was Neville who was planning to become a Botanist (she found it slightly amusing that the wizarding world had borrowed this Muggle term for their Master Herbologists), and he was much better at it than she was. And she really wasn't _that_ interested in plants.

Potions was a wonderful subject that she was very interested in, and she certainly wanted to continue studying it. However, her options for teachers weren't the most appealing. Or, in one case, _too_ appealing. She would never, in a million years, be able to stand studying under Slughorn's tutelage for an entire school year. Not in such close quarters, anyway. She'd barely survived the past year with him.

Dumbledore informed her in the letter that, even though Professor Snape was now the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he was still a Potions Master, and therefore qualified to take her on as an apprentice. He said nothing about the revelations of the past year. Hermione squirmed uncomfortably and glanced at the owl, who tilted its head again and fluffed up its feathers, getting comfortable.

As much as she wanted to work in close quarters with Severus, Hermione knew that that would be a _bad_ idea. It would test her limits, her self-control, and her sanity. She didn't know if she could stand a year of being so close to him and not knowing how he felt. She was already reminded every time she looked at him—she would probably have another nervous breakdown and do something foolish again if she had to spend the next nine months in his company, probably every day.

Hermione sighed, feeling almost disappointed in herself, and pulled out her quill, ink, and parchment to inform Dumbledore of her decision.

* * *

"You really didn't have to come with me," Hermione told her parents for what felt like the fiftieth time as they exited the Magical Menagerie.

She'd had to get more food for Crookshanks, and she found that he liked wizarding brands the best. She glanced down at her list of supplies for her three apprenticeships again and started leading her uncomfortable parental units toward Flourish and Blotts.

"Nonsense! We've come with you for your school shopping every other year, haven't we?" Mum replied, giving a pinched smile as they passed a street vendor with a cauldron that bubbled and croaked.

Hermione shook her head and pretended not to hear. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the thought—it was just that she _knew_ how uncomfortable they were in the wizarding world. And it wasn't as though she blamed them; she felt uncomfortable in the Muggle world after nine months at Hogwarts, and she knew how daunting it could be to switch from world to world. She simply didn't like making them step through the worlds every year.

She took a basket from the front of the store to start filling with books and her parents followed along, commenting on all the different kinds of books they had. She had to stop Dad from picking up _The Monster Book of Monsters_ before it bit him. Luckily, a few strokes on the spine had it calmed down before one of the employees had to come over and intervene.

Hermione had just snatched a more advanced book of Charms from the same author of _Quintessence: A Quest_, when a shadow moved over her. She glanced up and, thinking it was her father, started to lift the book to show him. He was very interested in wizarding books, although he rarely tried to read them, since they were a bit over his head. He especially liked the titles, however, so she often showed him her books just so he could chuckle over wizards' obsession with alliteration.

But instead of her father, Hermione found a just-as-tall, more intimidating, heart-stopping Potions Master standing over her. She froze for a full fifteen seconds, although it felt more like a thousand to her. Severus' lips twitched in that way that told her he was amused by something or other, and she snapped out of it, clearing her throat.

"Uh! Professor Snape!" Hermione blurted, stuffing the book in her basket. "What are you doing here?"

"Retrieving a few much-needed volumes for my personal collection," he purred, lips twitching again when she tried in vain to suppress a chill.

"Oh," she said.

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes in self-loathing. _'Oh'? That was _brilliant_, really_, she thought disgustedly. Severus was merely watching her, seeming perfectly content with this and nothing more. Hermione, however, was growing more fidgety by the minute. She glanced up at him and the familiar mantra "_he knows, he knows, he knows_" started up in her head again, repeating over and over until she wanted very much to bang her head against an obliging wall.

"Hermione, I'm not sure some of these books are quite child safe," she heard her Mum say as her parents came up behind her. "Are you sure it was smart trusting this school?"

Hermione nearly died. She glanced up at Severus, who was looking rather stonily at her parents, eyes flicking between them before finally settling on the girl in the middle. She wanted to cower and run off into a corner, but instead she opened her mouth to speak. Only to find that she was incapable.

"Who's this, sweetheart?" Dad inquired, sounding a little protective, as he always did where men in her life were concerned.

Hermione took another breath and tried to force the words out, but she couldn't manage it. What was she supposed to say, anyway? "Guess what, this is the man I'm madly in love with. Oh, you didn't know I was madly in love? Well, guess what else? He's also my professor! Happy heart attack, Daddy!"? She thought not.

Severus must have read something in her expression or something, because, after a moment, he switched his gaze from her to her parents and extended his hand toward her father.

"Professor Severus Snape," he offered smoothly. "I am your daughter's former Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And I believe it was very wise to trust Hogwarts, Mrs. Granger. It would've been quite a loss, had you decided against letting her continue to attend."

Hermione was frozen again. Severus was being civil. With her parents. _And did he just give me a _compliment_?_ It appeared so, since she heard her mother laugh, flattered.

"Professor Snape, the Potions Master?" Dad asked, as though for confirmation.

Severus merely nodded.

"Oh, so _you're_ the potions genius!" Mum said excitedly.

"Hermione tells us you helped her learn Occlemuns…er—"

"Occlumency, dear," her mother corrected hastily.

"Right. We can't thank you enough for that," Dad continued, quite seriously. "We had enough trouble when she was a youngster with her magic getting out of control. Can't imagine what it'd be like now."

"Dad," Hermione murmured, finally finding the courage and the vocal cords to speak.

"Really?" Severus prompted silkily, sounding extremely interested.

"Oh, yeah. She couldn't come within ten feet of the shower without it turning on sometimes," Dad replied, chuckling. "And once—"

"Dad!" Hermione said, louder this time.

"Oh, it's so nice to finally meet you!" Mum said, as though her husband hadn't just been about to spill his daughter's embarrassing stories to said daughter's professor. "She talks about you all the time."

"Mum!" Hermione cried sharply, glancing back at her with wide eyes.

"Well, it's true!" she said, smiling back up at Severus. "It's essential to have teachers who make an impression."

"Mum, Dad, _please_…could you not?" Hermione said desperately, glancing at Severus meaningfully. "How about I just meet you in the café around the corner, all right? It'll be ten minutes at the most."

And now her parents were giving her odd looks. Hermione panicked a little, wondering if she'd glanced at him a little _too_ meaningfully. But they just nodded and her father reached to shake Severus' hand again.

"Nice meeting you," he said sincerely.

"It was my pleasure," Severus replied, nodding to Hermione's mother.

The horrifyingly embarrassing parents headed for the exit and Hermione let out a relieved breath, turning back to face Severus. He was still watching her, book tucked under his arm, looking delicious in his dark robes. She realized her cheeks were burning and suddenly wished her parents were back, to buffer the images now running through her head.

"Um…sorry…about them," she managed, a teensy bit proud that she'd been able to get a full sentence out.

"That's quite all right, Miss Granger," Severus replied calmly. "It was very…illuminating."

Hermione swallowed.

His lips twitched again as he looked down at her, and she cleared her throat, trying to push past the sudden lump.

"Uh…I-I-I should let you…get back to shopping," she managed, moving to shift around him.

"Anything I can help you with?" a young man in Flourish and Blotts' customary robes asked from behind Severus.

They both turned to face him and Hermione gave him an easy smile, thanking Merlin for the interruption. If she'd had to be alone with him for one more minute, she thought she would burst.

"Actually, I was trying to find this book," she told him, pointing out a title on her parchment.

"Ah, we've got a few stocked up in the back," he replied, flashing her a grin. "Let me go get it for you, Legs."

Hermione blinked and glanced down at her legs, confused. What was he talking about? Of course she had legs, but…. She glanced up when she realized that Severus was still standing there, and so was the employee. He'd turned rather pale, though, and Severus was outright glaring at him. Hermione was startled to see that vicious sneer he'd shot Harry when she patted his hand.

Could…Harry and Ginny be right? Did knowing that she loved him make him feel free to show jealousy? Did he think of her as _his_ now?

When the clerk bolted for the back and Severus' features returned to normal, Hermione shook her head of the notion. There was absolutely no way. He nodded to her, and she felt his eyes flick over her once more.

"Good day, Miss Granger," he purred, and then disappeared around the corner.

Hermione blinked, leaning against the shelf. It was a good thing she'd decided not to apprentice with him, she decided. Interacting with him had become far too much work. She held her hand over her racing heart and sighed, shaking her head.


	9. Seventh Year: Part One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

"But…you won't be _in_ Gryffindor Tower."

Hermione rolled her eyes for what felt like the fiftieth time. Lavender hadn't joined them in their booth, so Ron's lips weren't occupied, which turned out to be a bad thing. He couldn't seem to move past the fact that she wouldn't be staying in the dorms of Gryffindor for the year, despite everyone else's attempts to move the conversation forward.

"Yes, but, as I've said before, Dumbledore assured me in his letter that I will be _near_ it," she told him evenly. "Although I'm beginning to think that little feature is more important to you than it is to me."

Ron folded his arms, pouting. "It just won't be the same."

"It won't? And how many nights have I slept in the boys' dormitories again?" she asked sarcastically. "Oh, I believe that would be none."

"That's not what I mean. It's not where you sleep. It's…you're a Gryffindor! And we all hang out in the common room together," Ron whined, almost pleadingly. "And this is our last year together. I just think it should be…_together_."

Ginny huffed and Hermione shot her a sympathetic look. She'd stretched out along the seat, her feet resting on Harry's thighs, and she'd covered her eyes dramatically with her arm. Apparently she'd had to put up with Ron's keening for the better part of the trip to the train. Harry had his forehead smashed flat against the window, as though if he tried hard enough, he could push right through it and not have to listen to Ron anymore.

Harry had been upset to learn Hermione wouldn't be in Gryffindor Tower as well, but he'd gotten over it fairly quickly when she announced that she'd also have private quarters and they'd be near the dorms. He hadn't gone on and on and on about how things wouldn't be the same. Because of course they would be the same—it's not like their friendships were affected by Hermione's living arrangements.

Hermione's mind immediately wandered to Dumbledore's words in the letter. Apparently the place would be similar in style to a loft, and therefore very "spacious" for her "academic and emotional needs." He suggested that she bring plenty to decorate with, however, since the quarters hadn't been used "for years." Dumbledore also warned her about her portrait: that of Loki, the Norse trickster god. As his origins suggested, he was a little bit of a pain.

She wasn't looking forward to that, but she assumed there were no other, more appealing options. All of the portraits seemed to have some sort of attitude problem, anyway. She supposed it was because they were only two dimensional.

Hermione was, however, looking forward to decorating. She'd recruited Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Luna, so far, to help with it the day following their arrival, since no one would have any classes. She assumed her masters would allow her the day to get settled in as well, since she'd received no letters from them informing her to be ready a day early.

"…and what if you have nightmares, hm? Who are you going to have comfort you?"

Hermione groaned when she realized Ron was still blathering on, completely unaware that she hadn't been listening for the past ten minutes.

"I wouldn't be having you comfort me, anyway, Ron," she bit out, before he could go on. "And it's not like I won't be eating with you or going to your Quidditch games. Nothing is changing except where I sleep at night." She paused, then hurried on before he could interject. "And besides, the common room is always busy. My living area might be a nice change of pace."

"But—"

"Are we there yet?!" Ginny bellowed, shooting up from her supine position.

Before any of them could answer, there was a light chuckle from the doorway. Hermione glanced up to find Draco Malfoy grinning in Ginny's direction. Ginny blushed and yanked her feet off Harry's lap, startling him from his daydreaming. Harry did a double-take when he saw Draco, but quickly shrugged it off and went back to watching the scenery.

"Not quite," Draco replied playfully. "But I hear _Silencio_ is rather effective when you have a talkative sibling."

Ginny smiled bashfully. "Don't say that too loud. You'll have Hermione silencing me every week."

Hermione nearly chuckled, but she didn't want to interrupt the obvious flirtation between the pair. As doubtful as she was about the relationship, she couldn't help but see how delighted Ginny was by Draco's attentions. Besides, Draco's intervention with his father at the train station had been a pleasant surprise, and it had her wondering if Draco was willing and able to change.

It was the sort of thing Hermione wanted to ask Severus about, to see what he thought. She brushed the thought aside immediately and focused her attention on the pair.

"Aw, I wouldn't worry about that," he retorted. "She's put up with Potter and Weasley this long—she can withstand anything."

Ginny grinned back at him. "True. She does have amazing amounts of tolerance for intolerable people."

Hermione wasn't sure how comfortable she was with the two of them discussing her right in front of her. She almost thought to dive in and change the subject, but Draco beat her to it.

"Much more than I. In fact, I have a rather low tolerance for hunger pangs, too," he said slyly. "Want to catch up with the trolley and grab a bite?"

Ginny leapt off the seat so fast that Hermione was afraid she would fall right over.

"Sure," she said casually.

Hermione thought that trying to be casual after nearly falling down whilst trying to stand up was an exercise in futility, but Draco didn't seem to mind. The two exited the booth and Hermione smiled privately before chancing a glance at the boys. Harry was still plastered to the window, bored out of his mind, it seemed, while Ron was shaking his head with disgust. She wasn't sure, but she thought he was muttering something about having to put up with his "sister and her bloody poor taste in men."

She chuckled to herself and picked up the book she'd been trying to read since the train started. By the time she felt the train halt, she was nearly finished with it and Ginny was back. Ron was taking a nap next to her, while Harry had resorted to flipping through pages of a Quidditch book to entertain himself.

Hermione slid her bookmark in and stood with Harry and Ginny. Harry proceeded to shake Ron awake, while the girls began gathering their luggage. At Dumbledore's suggestion, Hermione had brought quite a lot to decorate with. Mostly books, of course, but a few things her mother had suggested before she left. She had a little bit more luggage than she was used to because of this, which led to quite a bit of fiddling with handles and adjusting straps.

By the time she'd gathered her things, the other three were already halfway out the door. Crookshanks was yowling impatiently and Hermione sighed, tugging her things along. She promptly got stuck in the door and groaned irritably, straining to pull the lodged items out. She caught sight of a bit of red hair and clung to the hope that she could yell loud enough for them to hear.

"Hey! Could you guys help me with this?!" Hermione bellowed.

Unfortunately, the red hair didn't whip around and give way to a tan face. They just kept going. Hermione growled to herself and kept pulling, shooting Crookshanks irritated glances when he kept meowing at her. _This is a lovely start to the year_, she thought crossly. _Had an embarrassing run-in with Severus before it even had a chance to start, and now you're stuck in a door._

To her surprise, her bags suddenly popped loose and Hermione went tumbling to the ground amongst the various suitcases filled to the brim with books. Crookshanks' carrier landed directly on her stomach and the half-cat yowled at her again, as though admonishing. She sighed and rolled her eyes, going to make her way to her feet and off her sore bum, when she saw the cause of the loosened luggage.

A boy with sandy brown hair, light green eyes, and a goofy grin stared down at her, holding up one of her bags. He had a Hufflepuff patch on his robes, and she knew he was a seventh year, but she couldn't quite remember his name.

"Sorry 'bout that!" he said bouncily, reaching down for her hand.

Hermione took it, albeit hesitantly, and found herself on her feet and unsteadily reaching for an anchor in no time. The boy swung his arm around her shoulders to keep her steady, and she noted with puzzlement that he was _still_ grinning. Who grinned that much?

"All right?" he asked cheerfully.

She nodded and carefully pulled herself out of the arc of his arm. She began picking up bags again, setting Crookshanks' carrier down for the moment. To her surprise, the Hufflepuff began packing her bags onto his shoulders, swinging them up into his arms with grace and ease. Every movement was fluid and quick, as though this thin rail of a boy ran on speed. She took a closer look at him and thought she recognized him from somewhere; he looked more familiar than just a seventh year Hufflepuff she had never interacted with.

"Thank you," Hermione said belatedly, remembering her manners.

He grinned at her. "No problem, Hermione. You don't mind if I call you Hermione, do you? Seems a bit familiar, since we haven't had a proper chance to meet, but I know you don't like being called by your last name by blokes. My brother warned me of that one."

It was rare that she found a person who could talk faster, and more, on less air than she could. She found herself staring, then shook herself a little and hastily shook her head as she rose with the last of her bags.

"N-no, I don't mind," she said uncertainly. "Your brother?"

"Yeah: Harold," he said simply, then barreled on before she was fully prepared for it. "He graduated last year from Hufflepuff. Lot bigger than me, so you probably wouldn't see the resemblance. He was a Beater for the Quidditch team. Kissed you at Slughorn's Christmas Party. From what I hear, you gave him quite a lashing." His grin widened. "Bloody ponce deserved it, if you ask me."

Hermione nodded, uncomprehending. Harold the Beater Hufflepuff kissed her at Slughorn's Christmas Party? What was he talking about? And then she remembered. She nearly blushed at the recalled looks of anger on Harold's face and the amusement on Severus'. What an interesting night that had been. And this was Harold's brother? They seemed nothing alike….

She cleared her throat. "Do you play Quidditch?" she asked politely, since it was the only thing she could think to say.

He grinned again. "Yeah, I'm the Seeker. Didn't Harry tell you?"

"I, um—"

But he was off again before she could remember.

"My dad actually made me play it. Said I had too much energy for a teenage boy and I had to get it out somewhere. I tried out fifth year and the captain put me right in the spot of Seeker. Said I was built for speed." He said this proudly, almost cheekily. "It's kind of fun, but I don't think I'm going into it long-term. Anyway, I heard you weren't a fan of Quidditch, so we don't have to talk about that, if you don't want to."

Hermione stared at him again, struck speechless. She had never, in her entire life, met someone who played Quidditch who was willing _not_ to talk about it because she didn't like it. Even Viktor, when he actually spoke, would start yammering about how thrilling the sport was and how she needed to come to a game.

They were quickly approaching Filch and the luggage area. Hermione was panting, trying to keep up with this boy. His legs moved like they were wheels on the Knight Bus, and she could've sworn he bounced a little each time he took a step.

"Hiya, Filch!" the boy bellowed merrily, plopping Hermione's luggage down with the rest.

Filch turned and sneered at the both of them while they unloaded their heavy loads.

"Have a good summer?" the Hufflepuff asked jovially, as though this were Santa Claus and not the grouchy caretaker of Hogwarts.

"Don't you bother," Filch snarled. "I can see right through you."

The boy seemed unperturbed by Filch's suspicious glare—he just kept grinning. Filch's eyes flicked to Hermione and she gave a weak smile, unsure of how to respond to him.

"Better get on with it, girl. Don't want to miss the carriage," he said with mock-niceness.

Hermione just nodded rapidly, settled the rest of her things, and strode off toward the carriages. The Hufflepuff met her stride and bounced along beside her, humming to himself. He couldn't seem to stand still, even as they waited for the next carriage with a couple of Ravenclaws. He kept rocking on his heels and snapping his fingers.

Hermione felt a little uncomfortable, not knowing this friendly boy's name. Even more uncomfortable than with asking what his name was. So, she took a breath.

"Um…I-I'm sorry, but…might I ask what your name is?" she managed, avoiding his eyes.

The boy let out a hearty laugh that was just the same as the rest of him: merry and light. He grinned down at her once he'd finished startling the Ravenclaws and thrust out a hand.

"Asher Twiddlorf," he said grandly, giving her hand a quick shake before releasing. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Hermione replied earnestly.

After all, he'd saved her from staying stuck and taking the train back to Platform 9 and ¾. Asher grinned at her again and she smiled a little shyly, feeling uneasy with his staring and never ending supply of happiness. It was probably a good thing, she reflected, that she'd fallen in love with someone who wasn't happy all the time. Obviously, she was a bit unnerved by that particular quality.

"You're as nice as they say you are," Asher said suddenly, sounding as though he was ready to go on another long speech.

The carriage arrived just in time to cut him off, but that didn't seem to faze him. He just bounced over to the door and held it open for her. Hermione shifted around the Thestrals, eyeing them uneasily. So they weren't supposed to be evil creatures—they still made her uncomfortable. She sighed with relief when she was finally safe in the carriage.

Asher plopped down next to her and proceeded to regale her and the three Ravenclaws with a hilarious tale of his adventures battling a vicious, man-eating dust bunny during his family's annual summer cleaning.

* * *

Hermione's cheeks ached so badly from laughing so hard that she could barely give her friends a greeting smile as she sat down in the Great Hall. They all asked where she'd been, but she waved them off in favor of silently laughing to herself in recollection of an especially amusing part of the story. She decided she liked Asher—he was amusing, and his cheerfulness was infectious. Even the stony-faced Ravenclaws had had tears in their eyes by the end of his story.

Her amusement faded when she spied Severus at the Head Table. He was conversing with Professor McGonagall, and it looked to be a rather intense discussion. They were both frowning and gesturing emphatically. Hermione sighed and chewed on her lower lip, trying not to think about how it had felt to be so deep in discussion with Severus herself. She sighed with relief when the ache of missing that pleasant feeling melted away.

No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from him. It was so wonderful to see him. Even if it had only been a few weeks. She was suddenly missing that day and how close they'd been standing. She even missed how her parents had almost scarred her for life. Well, all right, not that part so much.

Hermione was filled anew with the delight that Severus had met her parents and had even been civil with them. It was quickly quelled when she remembered that her parents had treated him like their daughter's professor, as they knew him. The meeting might not have been so civil if they knew differently. And Severus was really just being polite to a student's parents, since he represented the school and Dumbledore.

Still…she'd been so close to him. And he hadn't exactly been rude to her, either. And the way he'd looked at that clerk….

_All right, stop it_, Hermione scolded. _You're deluding yourself into thinking something that would never happen in a million years is true. All this was settled three years ago. He does not, and will never, love you._

With that depressing thought, Hermione tried to turn her attention to her friends' discussion, since the Sorting was over. Unfortunately, her eyes were unwilling to look at anything but Severus. She had to admit: looking at Severus was a lot more pleasurable than looking at her food.

Right up until he looked back at her.

Severus was still speaking with McGonagall, poking at his food once in a while, and then he seemed to sense her eyes on him. He paused in the middle of a nod and gradually turned to look at her. When those black eyes met hers, Hermione's heart leapt to her throat and she looked away as quickly as possible, cheeks burning red.

She felt his gaze linger on her for several moments while she burned a hole through the table with her intent stare. She refused to allow herself to look at him. Finally, his attention drifted and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, relaxing the tense muscles that had bunched up from the rush of adrenaline.

Hermione rubbed her neck briefly and glanced over the distant tables. Asher caught her eye and he grinned at her, waving rapidly. She smiled and gave him a little wave back before finally focusing on eating, although most of her energy was being devoted to not looking at Severus again.

It couldn't be like this all year, Hermione decided while her friends were discussing Quidditch again. She had to gain some control over her thoughts and desires, or else she'd do something foolish again. What could she possibly do about thinking about Severus all the time, though? There wasn't exactly a guidebook about how to deal with longing for your professor.

And really, the only time she didn't have a thought about him for an extended period of time was when she was working on something. Like homework. Even then, she'd have the occasional curious thought about what he'd think about a particular incantation or something, but at least it usually went away when she had to focus again.

That was when Hermione decided that the only way to not think about Severus was to work as hard as she possibly could this year.

* * *

"Your default password is 'shrivelfig,'" McGonagall informed her as she led Hermione up the stairwell. "You may, of course, want to change this. Your curfew will be two hours later than the normal students', since you'll have a greater amount of responsibility and homework. Professors Vector and Flitwick have worked out a schedule, along with my input, for you. I'll get it to you first thing tomorrow morning."

Hermione nodded her understanding. "Will I have tomorrow to settle in?"

"Of course, dear," she replied, as though surprised she would ask.

They came to a stop next to the portrait of Loki, who was snoring most unconvincingly. McGonagall gave Hermione a long-suffering, apologetic look.

"I apologize for the choice of portraits," she said sincerely. "I tried to convince the Headmaster that there were much better options, but he insisted you would be most comfortable near Gryffindor Tower. This was, sadly, the least…difficult portrait."

"Excuse me?!" Loki suddenly barked, eyes shooting open. "_I'm_ the least difficult, you say?! I take offense to that, cat woman!"

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "You behave for Miss Granger. She's a talented young witch, and you know what talented witches can do."

Loki eyed Hermione and promptly made a noise that sounded like a mix between a purr and a growl. Hermione blushed and folded her arms across her chest, feeling violated somehow.

"Yes, I certainly do, pussycat," he drawled.

McGonagall rolled her eyes again. "Not that, you twit. Besides, you're two dimensional. What do you think you're going to do?" She shook her head, but went on before Loki could answer. "I meant that talented, nice young witches like Miss Granger here can easily perform a hex that will have you banished from this portrait and chained to that rock again in no time."

Loki glared at her suspiciously. "She could not. Look at her—she's a little bint! A wee thing! Tiny! Small! Petite!" He paused, then eyed Hermione again. "Nubile…."

"That's what you said about poor Sybil, too, the last time she was up here," McGonagall reprimanded sharply. "The poor woman had the misfortune of asking Severus what that word meant and she was in a state of shock for days."

Hermione nearly snorted. She could just imagine Severus' unpleasant reaction to being asked what "nubile" meant, and by a woman he loathed, no less.

Loki grinned. "I can always count on Sevvy."

McGonagall sighed exasperatedly. "Be. Nice. To. Her. Or I'll come up here myself. With scissors."

"You're cruel," the god said after a grimace.

Hermione suppressed another laugh and glanced at McGonagall, who was smiling maternally at her.

"Now, is there anything I can get you before you get settled in?" she asked kindly.

"How about a barrel of vodka?" Loki interrupted loudly.

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "I don't think so. But thank you."

McGonagall put a hand on her shoulder, looking as though she was about to say something. They were both distracted by Loki whistling a drinking song and unsuccessfully trying to hang upside down in his portrait. The professor sighed exasperatedly, smiled at Hermione one last time, and then turned to wander back down the hallway.

"Good night," Hermione called.

"Good night, dear," McGonagall returned.

When the older witch disappeared down the corridor, Hermione turned back to Loki, who had stuffed grapes in his mouth and was now giving her a purple grin. She shook her head, amused, and faced him straight on.

"I'm Hermione," she told him.

"Whatever you say, Legs," Loki replied, juice spurting out of his mouth.

Her brow furrowed. That was the second time a male had called her "Legs" and she _still_ had no idea what it meant. Loki was still chewing on his grapes. She sighed. Well, now was as good a time to ask as any.

"What does that even mean?" she asked, startling him a little. "I mean…what does it mean when men call me that?"

"You don't know?" Loki replied, grinning impishly.

"Well, no. I mean, of course I have legs," Hermione retorted exasperatedly. "Who doesn't?"

The god thought this was so funny that the grape juice came out his nose this time. He slapped his thigh and roared with laughter. The corridor echoed with his guffaws.

"You really are an innocent little bint, aren't you?" he asked roguishly. "You've got nice legs, Legs."

"You mean men are attracted to my…legs?" she shot back, confused.

Loki laughed again, but didn't answer this time. Instead, he resumed whistling a tune that sounded vaguely familiar to her and began tossing the grapes at the sky of his portrait. Hermione sighed, wondering how on earth she would get along with someone so determined to be irritating. Recalling the legend, she realized that this was probably the only way he could get his kicks anymore. After first being bound to a rock by the other gods, and then being trapped inside a portrait, well…there weren't a lot of chances to be annoying and cause trouble.

"About my password," she ventured, hoping this would catch his attention.

It did, but he just grinned at her.

"You mean you don't want to keep shrivelfig? And I thought you'd love a good potions ingredient, considering your taste in men," he purred, not even batting an eye when her mouth dropped open.

How on _earth_ did he know?! And if a portrait knew, how much hope did she have that no one else in the castle knew? Especially when such a mischievous, unkind portrait held the information.

Hermione bravely gathered herself. "I'd rather not keep shrivelfig, thank you."

"Then what will it be, Legs?" Loki asked, sounding bored now that she'd recovered from the shock.

She considered this for a long moment. She could make it something fairly obvious, like "library," or "Arithmancy," or "Crookshanks." Or maybe something a little more specific, like "numerology," or "Kneazle." Then again…this was the trickster god, and chances were, she would pick something innocent like that and he would immediately reject it and refuse to let her in when she tried to use it.

An idea struck her and Hermione nearly grinned. Severus would be proud of her, she thought smugly.

"How about…nubile?" she suggested at length, enjoying the look of surprise on Loki's face.

There was a long pause while the god took in _that_ shock, and then he grinned, very slowly.

"Legs…I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship," Loki said, as seriously as a trickster god could.

* * *

When she went down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Hermione was disappointed to realize that she wouldn't be able to get started on Operation "Don't Think About Severus" until the next day. He was there, of course, sitting next to Dumbledore and Flitwick, and ignoring both of them.

Hermione trained her eyes on her eggs, which the house elves had gotten creative with, apparently. Her bacon was lined up along the bottom of her plate so it looked like it was smiling at her. She found it a little creepy.

Asher waved at her again that morning and Hermione returned it, but immediately went back to focusing on her plate afterward. Any attention given to anything else would lead directly to staring at Severus. Which couldn't happen.

He thought she was foolish and childish enough without making him think she was giving him moon eyes all the time. Which she supposed she sort of was, but she couldn't exactly help herself. It was his fault, really, for being so delicious.

McGonagall descended to hand out schedules, including Hermione's. Hermione glanced over it and placed it carefully in her bag for later perusal. After all, she was going to have guests later, and it wouldn't do to be focusing on her schedule instead of them.

"Are you coming back with me to decorate?" she asked her friends when she'd finished eating.

"Yeah, we promised we would, didn't we?" Ron retorted irritably.

"We've only had this planned for two weeks," Ginny added, smirking.

"Of course," Harry replied politely.

"Okay, okay. I was just checking," Hermione said, sighing.

There was a moment of silence as they entered the hall.

"You don't mind if Lavender comes, do you?" Ron asked suddenly.

"Oh, and Draco, too?" Ginny blurted, blushing immediately when the boys stared at her.

"You invited _Malfoy_?" Harry asked, stunned.

"_You_ invited Luna!" she shot back defensively.

"Luna hasn't bullied us for years and—"

"The more the merrier," Hermione cut in, ignoring the impending argument. "I'll see you all there at ten."

She trotted away and, sure enough, heard the argument explode behind her shortly after. She was getting good at dodging these bullets.

* * *

Hermione's friends and their friends were stunned at how incredibly drab and grey her rooms were. Truth be told, she was a little bit stunned, too. In the dark, it hadn't looked quite so bad, especially with the moon giving it a silvery glow. She tried to pull herself together, though, and assigned Ginny and Draco to one bag, Ron and Lavender to another, Harry and Luna to yet another, and herself and Neville to organizing the books.

Ginny and Draco were taking care of draperies, while Ron and Lavender had flowers and vases, and Harry and Luna were covering furniture. Hermione had taken some furniture out of her room, shrank it down to fit in her bags, and hoped it would make the room homier. And that it wouldn't be dwarfed by the size of the room. Her dad had even dug out an old couch from the garage so her friends would have somewhere to sit when she was finished. Of course, it needed some serious dusting and a couple charms to keep it together, but it was a nice little couch.

Her quarters _did_ have some already-supplied furniture, like a coffee table and candles. Most of the luxuries were in her bedroom, which she was thankful for. It was hard enough to shrink a couch; she couldn't imagine what it would be like trying to shrink a bed.

Ginny was still talking about Loki and how weird he was when she and Draco finished dressing the windows with curtains from Hermione's room at home. They had all met him before coming in, of course, and Loki had been quite excited to see the "harem" Hermione brought him to look at. He immediately dubbed Ginny "Red" and Lavender "Blondie." Luna was given her usual nickname, however, which she didn't seem to mind too much. And at least Loki seemed to like "Loony." He thought she was funny, apparently.

Hermione had asked him why he focused on their hair, but her legs. He had just grinned at her, so she didn't press the matter, instead choosing to be grateful that he hadn't made her say her password too loudly in front of her friends.

It turned out to be both a bad and good thing that she'd split the pairs up the way she had. On the one hand, the pairs all liked one another and therefore worked well together. It also reduced the amount of interaction between certain adversaries in the group (i.e., Harry and Draco, Lavender and Luna, etc.). On the other hand, watching Draco and Ginny flirt, Ron and Lavender take snogging breaks, and Harry and Luna cuddle and work together was…well, painful.

Hermione was happy for her friends, of course, but each and every time Draco caressed the hair out of Ginny's face, or Harry kissed Luna's forehead, she felt an ache deep within her. Her mind longed to wander to Severus, but she wouldn't allow it to cause her that much pain.

Instead, Hermione focused all of her energy on directing the couples to their tasks and alphabetizing her books. She was fortunate there were so many shelves in the dusty room, or some of her precious volumes would've had to go on the coffee table, where Crookshanks could easily knock them down.

After Draco and Ginny finished with the curtains, Hermione set them to dusting, which only took them a little while with the use of their wands. There were a few places with questionable looking things growing, so they took care of that with a couple of spells and a bottle of disinfectant Hermione's mother insisted she take along every year. This was the first time she'd ever had reason to use it, but she supposed it was a good thing she was safe, rather than sorry.

When the living area was looking presentable and the others had finished their tasks, Hermione asked Harry and Luna to tackle the bathroom, Ron and Lavender to take care of her bedroom, and Draco and Ginny to tend to her closet and clothes. She didn't have to wear Hogwarts robes anymore, so she'd brought a variety of clothing this year, including some Muggle things. She knew it didn't exactly scream "I belong in this world" when she wore Muggle clothes, but she was comfortable in either world's style.

Hermione and Neville were left downstairs, still organizing the plethora of books she'd brought. Neville kept acting as though he wanted to say something, but Hermione had a feeling she knew what it was about.

All of her friends, including Ron, had written her letters over the past two weeks that were filled with nothing but condolences about Severus and questions about what they could do to help her deal with it. So, rather than allow yet another person to bring up such a painful subject, she would simply say something first, before he could start. He looked a little disappointed, but not to the point where she suspected he might've wanted to talk about something else. That made her feel a little better.

They all took a break at lunchtime, and Hermione found herself waving at Asher again. Apparently it was going to be a little routine they shared. She didn't mind, of course, although she had to admit that it was a little odd waving at someone she'd only really spoken to once in her life.

She spent the entirety of the meal running through Arithmancy calculations in her head in order to keep from looking up at the Head Table. It was such a habit to look up and find a stoic Severus among the chatting teachers by now that it was proving difficult to halt the natural motion.

She was relieved to be getting back to work after lunch. They had the place looking suitable when it was almost time for dinner. Hermione went about doing the finishing touches, although she sent a note to a house elf about procuring her exhausted friends some tea. She still had her doubts about treating house elves the way the wizarding world did, so she was as polite as possible in her note.

Her friends sat around, chatting about Quidditch, clothes, classes, and more, and Hermione was pleased to find that they could all get along when they were tired out. Ginny served the tea while Hermione was still busying herself with the last touches, ignoring when they would call out to tell her to just relax. The fact was, she really couldn't just relax.

Hermione's plan was going too well, and she had a feeling if she stopped and relaxed, it would stop working altogether.

At dinner, Asher waved at her again and this time caught up with her afterward. He asked about her day and told her another hilarious story about his day—apparently he couldn't get some of the ladies of Hufflepuff to keep their hands off. Hermione said good night to her friends, who were practically falling over laughing, when they arrived at the Gryffindor portrait. Asher walked her the rest of the way to her portrait, told her it was nice meeting her friends, and then bounced off down the hallway again.

Hermione slept restlessly, much to Crookshanks' displeasure. She ended up getting up at one in the morning to read one of her textbooks over again, even though she had already memorized it. For some reason, she simply couldn't break that particular habit—no matter how far she had come in her "think for yourself" campaign.

When she noticed that the lighting was becoming greyer and less silvery, Hermione put away the book and took a shower. She took her time getting dressed for the day, putting on her most professional-looking robes, with a cream-colored blouse beneath it to break up the monotony of the black.

Today was to be spent with Professor McGonagall, learning about Transfiguration. Hermione was to observe during class times and aid struggling students, which was just fine with her. She just hoped it was distracting enough to help with Operation "Don't Think About Severus".

When she could no longer take the silence of her quarters as she paced back and forth, Hermione left her rooms and headed down the empty corridor toward the stairs. Loki was still asleep, she noted, which probably meant that most everyone was. Except, perhaps, a few of the teachers.

Technically, she was allowed to sit at the staff table for breakfast. In fact, technically, she was supposed to—according to what she had read about Hogwarts' guidelines about the rare apprentice they would have. She wasn't sure she felt comfortable with this, though. Part of the appeal of staying on was that Dumbledore told her she could still sit with her friends at mealtimes. And when else would she see them? Her schedule was fairly full….

Hermione heaved a sigh and trotted down the last few steps, then turned the corner to go toward the Great Hall. She nearly ran into a man in all black garb who could only be Severus. Her heart pounded a little faster, as it always did when he was in close proximity. She met his eyes, finding surprise in them.

For a moment, she panicked. This wasn't a good thing for her "Don't Think About Severus" plan. However, it also wouldn't be good if she didn't find a way to deal with him when she had no choice but to see him. Like right now. She straightened, trying to think what would be the most appropriate way for her to respond to his presence.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," Hermione forced out, trying to sound pleasant, civil.

Not anxious or squeaky or any of the other various tones she had used with him since he found out about her feelings for him.

Severus eyed her sharply, as though he was displeased with something she'd done. Hermione kept a tight hold on her expression, making sure she was as composed as her Occlumency lessons had taught her to be. He was still giving her an almost suspicious once-over when he finally decided to answer her.

"Good day, Miss Granger," he said at length, although his voice was tight, unlike hers.

She waited a moment longer before nodding and moving around him, keeping her pace slow and natural. It wasn't until she reached the door to the Great Hall that she heard his footsteps pound the stone floor again. She wondered what he was upset about, then scolded herself for thinking about him when she didn't have to.

Operation "Don't Think About Severus" was not off to a good start.

* * *

Since Asher had Advanced Transfiguration right after breakfast, he walked her to McGonagall's room, amusing her with stories from his days at Durmstrang—before he transferred to Hogwarts four years ago. One of his stories about misunderstanding one of the Bulgarian teachers was interrupted when they arrived in the room, of course, since he had to go to his seat and she had to report to McGonagall.

McGonagall told her that she had the choice of starting research or observing the class. If she did the latter, she would be expected to take notes, of course. Hermione chose research, since it would give her the opportunity to direct her mind away from certain thoughts she was trying to avoid. Ron and Harry kept waving at her throughout the class, which got them in trouble a couple of times. Fortunately, McGonagall went easy on them.

During the first and second year classes, Hermione helped some of the students who were having difficulties keeping up, but for the rest of the day she was immersed in researching the development of reversal spells. After dinner, McGonagall worked with her for two hours on more advanced transfigurations—like color alterations and texture changing.

Then Hermione was free to go to the library until her curfew. She took advantage of that suggestion immediately and got a head start on the essay she would have to write about human and self-transfiguration. She was disappointed when she realized she would have to go to bed. She was enjoying her research far too much. All of this was so fascinating….

Again, she had a rough night of sleep and resorted to rereading "A Tale of Two Cities." This didn't help her sleep, unfortunately, but it kept her engrossed until it was time to go to breakfast. She didn't run into Severus this time, but Asher walked her to Flitwick's classroom after they were done eating, since he had a free period.

Flitwick had her help students most of the day, although she did get to do a little research for her paper on famous charmed objects in Muggle fairytales. Harry and Ron, again, wouldn't stop waving, but Flitwick was either kind enough or oblivious enough not to deduct points. After dinner, she and Flitwick spent the next two hours on charming liquids. Then it was off to the library again.

Asher didn't walk her to Vector's classroom the next day, but he did stop to explain that it was because his class was all the way on the other side of the castle. She teased him, asking why he couldn't do it when he was "built for speed" which made him grin. That made her feel better, even though she'd had a horrible night's sleep again.

Vector had her doing nothing but helping students whenever there was a class. The rest of the time was spent discussing Numerology and what she'd thought of her textbooks, since Vector was used to Hermione reading all of her books before term even started by now. She was free to go after dinner this time, so she raced off to the library to keep working on her papers.

Thursdays and Fridays were split into thirds—she spent the time after breakfast with McGonagall, the time after lunch with Flitwick, and the time after dinner with Septima.

Put simply, Hermione was busy. Which she found to be quite a relief, because it meant she couldn't think about Severus too often. The only time she saw him was at mealtimes, and she'd trained herself not to look up at the Head Table anymore after a couple of weeks. She didn't see a lot of anyone, except during their classes, but she was just as busy working during that time as they were. If not more, in Harry and Ron's cases.

Hermione did, however, see quite a bit of Asher, who walked her to her classes whenever he could. He could often cheer her up by the time she had to get back to work, despite all the sleep deprivation. She realized that when she did see her friends, she wasn't the friendliest—her mood took a dive into sour, even, at times. She was in school overdrive, and she couldn't—wouldn't—come out of it.

Hermione was even delighted to take on a new project that would mean she wouldn't have to think about Severus.

At the end of September, Asher was walking her to Transfiguration again and telling her an embarrassing and uproarious story about his brother Harold and a sauce pan. Hermione was near tears when they reached the door, but she was stopped mid-giggle when he stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

"Hermione?" he prompted, as seriously as a bouncy person like Asher could.

"Yes, Asher?" she retorted teasingly.

"You've probably noticed that I have a little trouble with Transfiguration," he said in his usual rapid-fire way. "It's a miracle I even made it this far, actually. McGonagall may literally hate my guts for a couple things I've accidentally done in her classroom. So I was wondering if you would mind tutoring me."

Hermione smiled. "Of course I wouldn't mind."

His usual grin hopped back up in replace of the nearly-serious smile he'd just been wearing.

"Oh," he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. "I wasn't sure what with your schedule being so busy and all. Harry was telling me just the other day he's beginning to doubt your existence. You hardly show up to meals anymore."

She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I usually take the time to research. Dobby brings me my meals when I don't go to dinner."

He nodded quickly. "Well, s'pose we'd better get in there."

Although he didn't sound too concerned, actually.

Hermione smiled to herself as she entered the room, preceding Asher. This was wonderful, really. Now she would have something to take up those awfully empty weekends, too. She was actually starting to wonder how she'd ever lived without this "Don't Think About Severus" plan before.


	10. Seventh Year: Part Two

**Disclaimer:** Oddly enough, I still don't own this….

* * *

It seemed the world was determined to interfere with Hermione's plan. Or at least Professor McGonagall was.

After she informed the beloved teacher of her new tutoring situation, McGonagall decided that Hermione should have Fridays off. No matter how much Hermione protested, the older witch wouldn't bend. Apparently she felt that they'd been working her too hard, and that the addition of a tutoring job was admirable, but simply too much. And now that Hermione had told Asher she would tutor him, she couldn't exactly take it back.

So Hermione chose to use Fridays for more research and writing. As a result, her papers ended up finished far before they needed to be, despite the extra three feet she'd written on each of them. She considered writing two more, but after reading the papers through, she concluded that any addition would be a repetition of things she had already stated.

It was still early in the day by the time she finished the Charms essay, and she wasn't going to have a tutoring session with Asher until Saturday. Hermione could feel the exhaustion starting to creep up on her, along with the desire to seek comfort in a pair of strong arms and the warmth of his lean body. She immediately plucked a book from the nearest shelf and began perusing it, refusing to allow her mind to further the imagery of herself resting against her former Potions professor.

By the time she went to bed, Hermione was so exhausted that she couldn't possibly sleep badly. In fact, she caught up on quite a bit of lost sleep. She was almost late for meeting with Asher in the empty classroom near the Charms room, which was the same distance for both of them. That turned out to be all right, though, since he came bounding in a full five minutes after she entered the room.

Presently, they were studying the Advanced Transfiguration textbook, and Hermione was trying to explain the process of material changes.

"'The properties of the object are altered through a series of magical waves, each of which take only milliseconds and which shift elements (usually one at a time) of the object,'" she read off, glancing up briefly to see if he was getting it.

Asher favored her with a blank stare, although there was still that ever-present curve of the corners of his mouth. He shifted his head where it was rested on his fist and feigned falling asleep with an exaggerated snore. Hermione chuckled humorlessly, since she never found joking about academics very amusing. Still, he was trying.

"Could you repeat that in English, maybe?" he asked genially, waggling his eyebrows at her jokingly.

She laughed a little, although it came out choked. Her first thought when he finished his question had been: _Severus would've understood_. She sighed admonishingly and focused on the task at hand, hoping Asher would distract her enough to keep thoughts like that from creeping up.

"It just says that whatever you're transfiguring is changed in stages that are too fast for the eye to see," Hermione explained, unable to keep the irritated edge out of her voice.

He bobbed his head, grinning. "Oh! That makes more sense. Why can't they just say that?"

She shrugged. "I suppose because this way sounds more professional."

_And more intelligent_, she thought peevishly, then immediately scolded herself. Not everyone could thoroughly enjoy 500 page volumes about proper care of your wand. Although some of the students at Hogwarts really needed to at least try to read a chapter or two. Ron's wand was absolutely filthy, especially when compared to the gleaming vine wood wand in Hermione's pocket.

She took a breath, getting ready to read more, when Asher put a hand out to stop her.

"I didn't realize how late it was getting," he said cheerfully, looking at his wristwatch. "I've got to go—I have detention with Snape."

Hermione glanced at her own watch, amazed that they'd been studying and practicing for this long. Her amazement was cut short when he said that fateful name. Despite her plan, Hermione was suddenly thoroughly consumed by her curiosity about how he was doing. She didn't actually have any way to get news of him, except through her friends or her masters. Neither of these groups were very appealing people to pump for information.

Her friends would either try to guard her from the truth, or end up offering unwarranted advice. And her masters? She didn't fancy waltzing up to McGonagall and asking her if Severus was surviving without her.

So her aching mind latched onto Asher and the information he could provide her with. She couldn't be too obvious, of course. She would have to prod carefully and ask the right questions, so he wouldn't suspect. She pondered this for a moment while he gathered his things in that energetic way of his. She made a show of stretching and took a breath.

"What are you serving detention for?" Hermione asked carefully, trying not to betray herself with any gesture that might give her away.

"I'm not really sure, actually," Asher replied, scratching the back of his neck. "We were just practicing a defensive spell and he yelled at me for doing it wrong and said I had detention today. I don't know what I did to offend the guy, but this is my third detention in as many weeks."

Hermione noted that Asher sounded happy about this and wondered if anything ever affected him at all. When he shut his book and started to shove it in his bag, she started and latched onto the opening he'd left her.

"Maybe he's just in a bad mood," she ventured, watching him for signs of reaction. "Does he seem crankier than usual?"

Asher guffawed and nodded. "I'm surprised you haven't heard about it. The man's been deducting points left and right, almost since the school year started."

While she absorbed this, Asher finished pulling the last of his things together and then gave her his goofy grin. She forced a smile onto her features and leaned back in her chair, pondering ways to distract herself from her newfound curiosity about Severus' sour mood. Another trip to the library was probably in order.

Asher interrupted her train of thought with his merry voice. "Well, thanks for the tutoring session. I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow."

She nodded absently and he trotted out of the room, humming to himself. Hermione frowned as she began putting her things away. What could possibly be putting Severus in such a poor mood? And could she do anything to make him feel better? She rolled her eyes at herself. She was being ridiculous again, which meant it was time to hit the books.

* * *

Midway into October, Minerva was having a pleasant lunch next to Pomona, who was explaining that it was going to be hard to meet demand for Pepper-up Potion this winter. Apparently her ginger plants weren't doing so well, and Severus would need that to make a fully effective batch. Pomona wasn't looking forward to telling Poppy _or_ Severus this.

Minerva waved a dismissive hand. "Let me deal with Severus. He's in a frightful mood of late, so it'd probably be best if you limited contact with him for the time being."

Pomona let out a breath of relief. "Thank you so much. He's so very…belligerent."

She chuckled. "He is indeed. But at least you don't have to work in close contact with him often, unlike poor Poppy."

The Herbology professor smiled, but it quickly faded. She began twirling her fork between her thumb and middle fingers, a sure sign of agitation for Pomona. Minerva settled her silverware onto her plate and turned to face Pomona, taking a bracing breath.

"What is it?" she asked gently, hoping this would prod her into blurting it out.

"Well…Severus and I don't get along very well," Pomona began slowly, avoiding her eyes. "And you are so close with him. Closer than the rest of us, that is."

Minerva nodded. "Yes, that's true."

"And he's been…rather awful to my House lately," she continued, looking as though she felt this was a personal affront. "Especially poor Mr. Twiddlorf. He's been giving the poor boy detentions left and right! And Hufflepuff is nearing the negatives in points already!"

Minerva could guess the rest. Several other professors had approached Minerva in the past for the same thing—please talk to Severus to get him to stop doing (insert horribly nasty thing here). She smiled kindly at the obviously-nervous woman and gave a gracious nod.

"I will talk to him about it," she assured her.

Pomona melted with relief and proceeded to thank her several times over, while Minerva's mind wandered to what could possibly have unleashed Severus' rage on Hufflepuff, of all the Houses. She could easily see him taking his anger out on Gryffindor—his hatred of her House was well-known. Ravenclaw was even easy to see, since he loathed anyone who tried to rival him in intelligence. But Hufflepuff?

Those students were usually rather quiet, and while none of them were especially intelligent, none seemed to have problems keeping up. Although Mr. Twiddlorf certainly did during Transfiguration. Hermione's help with tutoring had improved him a little—enough for Minerva to notice, anyway.

Minerva started. _There_ was the connection. Severus was being especially hard on Twiddlorf, and she gathered from his vague comments about what happened in Dumbledore's office five months ago that he didn't exactly dislike Hermione any longer. Now Hermione was tutoring the boy and…well, Severus hadn't proved to be the most unsuspecting man in the world.

Still, that was no excuse to go destroying Hufflepuff's chances to win the House Cup. Minerva shook her head lightly, glancing over at her silent colleague. He was looking at his food disgustedly, as though it had offended him on some deep, personal level. She wouldn't have been too surprised if he whipped out his wand and hexed it.

She would have to speak with Severus in the next few days, Minerva decided. She would give him a little time to cool off and realize that Hermione wasn't seeing the boy on more than an academic level. If he proved to be as stubborn and unreasonable as usual, she would have to confront him.

* * *

Hermione shot a half-irritated, half-sympathetic glance Ginny's way when the girl huffed again. The redhead had apparently gotten into some sort of argument with Draco, although she refused to talk about it. She'd chosen sanctuary in the library with Hermione for the evening over sitting in the common room with Mr. I Told and Sir You So. Hermione honestly couldn't blame her.

Over the past couple of weeks, Hermione's doubts about Draco and Ginny's relationship had gradually faded and were replaced by faith in the both of them. Draco was becoming more strong-willed, and not just with his lackeys. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode had each received a harsh reprimand during lunch one day when they passed by Hermione and her friends. They were giggling madly, pointing at Hermione and Ginny, so Draco had whipped around to face them. Hermione didn't hear what he said, but whatever it was got the girls to shut up.

Draco even waved openly at Ginny and Hermione now. And Ginny was just beside herself with joy at his affections. He sent her flowers after the Hogsmeade trip, which Hermione understood was not a date. Just something like it, apparently.

Whatever their courtship was called, they spent an awful lot of time holding hands whenever they were together. From what Hermione remembered of a rushed conversation a week and a half ago, Draco had also apparently agreed with Ginny that prejudice against Muggle-borns was outdated. And Ginny had used Hermione's explanation for her argument, too.

So Hermione really couldn't imagine what had come between them. Unless Draco told her he thought she was joking about that. Or that he'd suddenly changed his mind and decided a Weasley wasn't for him. Whatever the reason, she hoped they could move past it soon.

Hermione directed her gaze back to her book again, flipping to the next page absently and yawning, despite her best efforts to suppress it. It was turning out to be both a good and bad thing that she'd been working hard enough to sleep well at night. The good being that she wasn't collapsing from exhaustion; the bad being that dreams were starting to disrupt the "Don't Think About Severus" plan.

She was seriously considering doubling her efforts with working. No sleep was better than sad dreams. Or at least that was her rationalization. She would've gone to Madam Pomfrey for a Dreamless Sleep Draught, but then she would've had to explain what it was for, since they didn't just give potions out like candy. She couldn't make one for herself either, since she wasn't a Potions student anymore and therefore didn't have the ingredients.

Hermione heaved a sigh after Ginny huffed and flipped a page with undue force. She opened her mouth to ask if Ginny wanted to talk about it, but there was movement in the corner of her eye and she found Draco approaching them. He was looking shameful and apologetic as he bent down to Ginny's level. The redhead refused to look at him as he whispered a few words in her ear.

Hermione quickly discovered that she couldn't focus on reading when the two of them were exchanging whispers only a few feet away, so she watched them curiously. Ginny stared down into her lap, frowning sadly. Draco was speaking urgently and Ginny's expression turned offended.

"No!" she snapped.

"Quiet!" Pince snarled from the front desk.

Draco winced and Ginny sighed, trying to return to her book. He glanced over at Hermione, who gave a sympathetic smile. He nodded, encouraged, and turned back to Ginny, whispering some more. This time she glanced up at him and shook her head sadly. He kissed her forehead lightly, and Hermione heard him murmur, "I'm sorry."

Then he whispered some more things she couldn't understand and Ginny nodded this time. The redhead stood with him and gave him a brief hug. Draco smiled at her and Ginny signaled to Hermione that she was leaving. Hermione smiled and turned back to her book. At least that was settled.

* * *

"What are you doing out so late?" Hermione nearly exclaimed.

She'd been stunned to see Ginny coming down the corridor just seconds before Hermione was about to speak her password. She'd stayed out until the very last minute of _her_ curfew, and Ginny was more than pushing the limits. Loki was grinning.

"Hiya, Red!" he called. "Late night, hm?"

Hermione fought a smile when she saw him comically waggling his eyebrows at the girl. Ginny blushed and shrugged sheepishly.

"I was just talking to Draco," she said quietly, so as not to alert any patrolling professors. "We lost track of time."

Hermione folded her arms, displeased. "You know better, Ginny. Filch, or one of the ghosts, or anybody could've caught you. What were you thinking?"

Ginny sighed. "He…he's having trouble with his father. That's why we argued, because he was still tense from a letter he got from home. So I was just…listening to him."

Hermione's disapproval melted, giving way to uncertainty. She chanced a glance at Loki, who feigned a huge yawn, bored of Ginny's story.

"Oh. Well." Hermione paused. "Try not to stay up so late again. Good night."

Ginny smiled weakly, nodded, and turned to the Fat Lady. Hermione, in turn, faced Loki.

"And here I thought Red was going to bring some excitement into our lives," he said, sounding extremely disappointed in her.

Hermione chuckled. "What were you expecting? A tale of swordfights, damsels in distress, and an evil emperor?"

He pouted and said, "Nah. But some sex would've been nice. She could've at least _tried_ to make it more interesting than—" here he paused to make his voice high-pitched and whiny "—'my boyfriend doesn't get along with his daddy and we bond over that.'"

Hermione grinned at him. "I much prefer that she tell the truth. But I'll be sure to inject some humorous sex lies into my stories from now on."

"You're a goddess, Legs," Loki replied cheerfully. "And I mean that in the best sense."

She laughed and yawned. "Thank you very much. Nubile."

He opened up and she sauntered right in, ready for warm blankets and a soft pillow.

* * *

The next day, Minerva observed Severus' agitated behavior as he ate breakfast and stormed off to his dungeons. It was a Saturday, which meant that Hermione was tutoring Mr. Twiddlorf again. She could definitely see the connection now—Severus' rage went from a simmer to boiling in one night. She only hoped she could convince him that Hermione's intentions were pure with Twiddlorf.

After all, she was sure that Hermione's were. The girl had clearly been excited when she told her about the new development, but she was also excited to be getting back to work. And she spoke of Twiddlorf no more than she did of Harry and Weasley. Over the past two days, however, Minerva _had_ noticed that Twiddlorf seemed particularly interested in Hermione.

He waved at her at each and every meal. He walked her to whatever classroom she would be in for the day. He even walked her to her quarters occasionally. And Hermione had specifically stated that it was Twiddlorf who asked _her_ for the tutoring, not that she had suggested it to _him_. The last nail in the coffin was Minerva's recollection of a period of Advanced Transfiguration, when Twiddlorf had accidentally sent his practice cup flying into the far wall. His distraction, she realized now, had clearly been Hermione, for that's the direction his eyes were pointing.

Minerva had considered, for a short time, approaching Twiddlorf and discouraging his pursuit of Hermione. She concluded that it would lead only to confusion for the boy, giving him questions which Minerva could not answer in good conscience.

She also considered trying to ascertain how Hermione felt about all of this and then acting accordingly. She brushed this aside for three reasons: Hermione was already under enough stress without Minerva's prying; if she were to accidentally reveal anything which Hermione did not already know about Severus' feelings, it could lead to great embarrassment for her poor friend; it was quite possible that Hermione was oblivious to both wizards' interest in her, which would lead to great confusion for the girl and inconclusive results concerning her feelings on the topic.

No, the only reasonable solution was to talk it over with Severus and hope that he would be in a listening mood.

She was on her way to Albus' office when she heard raised voices from below. She peered over the railing of the stairs and spied several heads of hair, the most prominent of which was black and greasy. She turned on her heel and hurried down the stairs toward whatever awaited her, not the least of which was Severus' bad mood.

"_Silence_!" he was snarling at a much shorter wizard, who leaned away from his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "I'll have none of your pathetic ramblings, you foolish, depraved little cretin!"

"Sir, he didn't—" a young boy began bravely, though his voice was wavering uncontrollably.

Severus rounded on him. "Do _not_ interrupt me, little twit," he said, dangerously lowly.

Minerva immediately decided it was time to intervene and quickened her pace.

"Thirty points from Hufflepuff—_each_! For your lack of coordination," he snapped at the boys.

The rest of the group cowered away from him and Minerva was sad to realize that these were all just first-years. Poor things.

"Severus," she called sternly.

His eyes turned on her with their cold fire, which she'd seen so often in the past that it hardly affected her. She placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of the first Hufflepuff boy.

"I believe that is sufficient punishment," Minerva said evenly. "You may all return to your dormitories."

As a herd, they bolted up the stairs and out of sight as quickly as possible, including the boy who had been quavering under Minerva's hand just seconds before. If there weren't Anti-Apparition wards in Hogwarts, she would've wondered if he'd succeeded in Apparating—just out of pure fear. She folded her arms and favored Severus with another stern look.

"What did the poor boy do to garner such a heavy points loss for his House?" she inquired, descending two more steps in the meantime.

Severus was still glaring at her, apparently angry that she'd interrupted his little temper tantrum. Because that's what it was, whether he would admit to it or not. He was upset that the object of _his_ affections was off with another, clearly interested male, and so he was taking it out on the closest thing he could.

Severus didn't bat an eye. "He tripped."

She paused. "Did he trip _you_?"

He scoffed. "No. The toe of his shoe did touch the end of my robes, however."

And before Minerva could react to that, Severus had turned on a sharp heel and swept off down the corridor, retreating to his office for what she was sure would be another lovely drinking day. She just hoped he was kinder to the house-elf who would have to aid him in the morning than he'd been to the last.

* * *

Hermione sank into the cool sheets with a contented sigh, which led directly to a yawn. After her tutoring session with Asher, she'd practiced for a few hours in the Room of Requirement, and followed it up with research time in the library.

Ginny and Draco were back to normal today—maybe even better. From her short interactions with them, Hermione couldn't tell how Harry and Ron were really handling the relationship now. But they hadn't freaked out too badly when Ginny came into the Great Hall for dinner holding hands with Draco. Harry had just glanced back at Luna, and Ron had tucked into his food with new vigor.

Asher was just as humorous as usual about the whole situation. When he walked her back to the library, they trailed behind her friends and he spoke into his wand as though he were a radio show host. He observed Ginny and Draco's every move in a comically baritone voice, saying things like, "The female responds with a flirtatious flick of her bountiful hair. The male, excited by this obvious invitation, shows his teeth, displaying his masculinity and great hygienic care." Hermione hadn't been able to keep herself from giggling at him.

Presently, she flipped over and hugged her pillow, sighing with relief when Crookshanks moved over her cold feet. They were freezing, despite the several blankets she had laying over her body. In hindsight, she probably should've put on socks.

With this thought, she drifted deep into sleep and a pleasant room filled with candles and books all along the walls.

_She looked around at the somehow familiar place, turning in a circle, and did a double-take when she spied a dark figure lounging on a green settee that hadn't been there before. She noted absently that he was wearing simple lounge wear: a black robe and sleep pants. Severus closed the book in his hand and settled it down next to him, rising to his feet with a welcoming smile and an outstretched hand._

_Hermione smiled and took the hand eagerly, melting into his embrace. His hands rubbed over the soft fabric of the periwinkle spring dress she was suddenly wearing. She suppressed a shudder, nuzzling into his neck and fitting herself under his chin._

"_I miss you," she told him, sighing contentedly._

_His voice sent chills through her body, and he hugged her tighter as he replied, "And I miss you. Where have you been?"_

_She bit her lower lip and hid her face from him when he pulled back to see her. A blush crept up her cheeks and she tried to conceal the guilt she felt. But, as always, Severus already knew what she was feeling. Almost before she did._

"_Why do you avoid me?" he asked softly, hands caressing her cheeks and tilting her head back to look at him._

"_I can't bear your rejection," Hermione answered automatically._

_She didn't have to hold back right now. Severus cupped her cheeks, holding her there. She let her fingers trail along the exposed skin of his collarbone, enjoying the closeness between them as she couldn't in reality._

"_You have nothing to fear," Severus purred, and then his lips were on hers and he was easing her down onto the settee._

_

* * *

_

Minerva strode purposefully down the corridor the next morning, intent on having it out with Severus over this. Hufflepuff's points were dangerously nearing the negative range, and it was time that Severus realized that destroying the House's chances for the House Cup was not helping Hermione to realize his feelings. Nor was it making her stop tutoring Twiddlorf, or stopping the boy from smothering her with attention.

She knocked sharply on his office door, knowing he would probably be hungover and angry with the intrusion, but it simply couldn't wait any longer. To her surprise, he automatically snarled, "Enter."

Minerva pushed open the door and found him throwing back a vial of what she assumed was Hangover Cure Solution. Brushing that aside, she shut the door and turned back to her colleague, folding her arms.

"There's something we need to discuss, Severus," she said sternly.

He had to know there was no getting out of this conversation.

He promptly rolled his eyes. "If this is about yesterday, then—"

"This isn't about yesterday," she replied, waving a dismissive hand. "Not specifically, anyway."

Minerva could see she'd piqued his curiosity: a brow arched high and he eyed her silently.

"This is about your treatment of Hufflepuff House in general," she continued, barreling on even when he huffed and broke eye contact. "Almost since the school year began, you've persecuted and punished them without mercy. Poor Pomona thinks she's done something to offend you."

He scoffed irritably. "That woman believes a change in the weather is a personal attack on her."

Blowing past that, Minerva sighed. "She and I have also noted that you seem to have a special vendetta against Asher Twiddlorf…."

Severus stiffened briefly. "The boy is a nuisance," he snapped, almost defensively.

"I see. And what has Hufflepuff House done to offend you so?" she asked coyly. "Beyond being a nuisance."

"My taking of points is always completely justified," he retorted sharply. "Unless you have an example of an incident where it was not, I suggest you leave."

And, as though he was expecting her to have no evidence, Severus turned toward his shelves to snatch a drink. Brushing aside both the thought that he may as well have skipped the Hangover Cure Solution if he was going to drink again and that he must think her unintelligent if he thought she came unprepared after years of being his friend, Minerva took a breath.

"All right. Pomona tells me you deducted twenty points from Rose Zeller for 'incorrect footwork' while performing a defensive spell," she said superiorly. "What is your justification for that?"

Severus scoffed. "Body movement is important when performing _any_ type of magic. She could've set the room aflame."

"Ernie Macmillan, and I believe it was twenty-five points for daydreaming."

"You can't honestly tell me you believe daydreaming is an appropriate behavior during class."

"According to Miss Abbott, he was sitting in the hallway."

"He _should've_ been tending to his homework."

"Steven Kellen, twenty points for 'improperly' tied shoes?"

"The boy could've tripped someone. Imagine the fuss Poppy would've raised."

"Eleanor Branstone, thirty points for 'disrespectful behavior'?"

"She was hunching in her chair, which is a sign of inattention—it's rude."

"Wayne Hopkins, twenty points for 'failure to adequately respond'?"

"I asked him a question and the boy couldn't get a word out."

"He has a stutter."

"He's annoying."

She sighed. "Quinn Faley, thirty points for 'ogling'?"

"He was staring at Miss MacDonald. Most disruptive."

Minerva raised a brow, then pulled up the last of the list she remembered Pomona and various witnesses from both Hufflepuff and her House telling her about. This would be the most likely to make him falter, although the chances were still low.

"And how about Asher Twiddlorf, forty points and a detention for an unknown offense that may have had something to do with breathing too loudly? According to Mr. Weasley, anyway."

Severus stiffened again and narrowed his eyes on her. "I was _trying_ to hear myself think, which he made quite impossible with the racket he was making."

Minerva heaved a sigh. Obviously, this wasn't working out so well. Even if his actions actually weren't justified, he clearly felt that they were. So she decided to change tactics, taking a more…personal route.

"I can see you aren't going to be reasonable about this, as usual," she said exasperatedly. "But may I point out that this ridiculous vendetta against Hufflepuff is not only unnecessary, but it's not even going to get you what you want?"

Severus' eyes shot to hers and a malicious sneer passed over his features. Evidently, she'd hit a nerve.

"And what precisely is it that you think I want, Minerva?" he said lowly, voice going dangerously quiet.

Minerva narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a look that had quieted many a student in her several years as a professor.

"We both know exactly what you want, Severus," she said thinly, "and exactly why you're punishing Hufflepuff. I am telling you: this is not the way to go about it. Do you remember what happened with the house-elves a few years ago? Unfairness won't be impressive."

Minerva promptly spun on her heel and exited the room before he could hex her into oblivion. Hopefully, that little encounter had made enough of an impression on him that he would cease fire. Before someone complained to Albus and he ended up making things worse.

* * *

Hermione dawdled on her way to the pitch, hoping one of two things would happen: either Harry and Ron would finally catch up and she wouldn't have to sit alone, or she would walk so slowly that she'd miss it entirely. True, she'd told Asher she was looking forward to seeing him play for the first time that she actually knew it was him, but that didn't change the fact that she wasn't excited about Quidditch.

She was looking forward to seeing him, of course. Mostly because it would mean she knew a player on one of the teams besides Draco. She was interested to see Draco and Asher playing against one another, since they seemed to get along fairly well when they walked her and Ginny up to Gryffindor Tower.

Other than that, she couldn't really care less. A bunch of wizards and witches flying around several feet above the ground, chasing after balls? Ooh, she was getting goose bumps just thinking about it.

Harry and Ron, on the other hand, were extremely excited to scope out Hufflepuff's team this year. Especially Asher, since now they knew him personally and were curious to see how he played. Gryffindor had already faced Slytherin and won, but really only because Harry caught the Snitch. Harry was hoping it was just because of lack of practice that his team hadn't done so well.

She sighed, wondering where they were. They had promised to meet her on the way…and they should've been dragging her, kicking and screaming, toward the pitch right now. She glanced at the people hurrying ahead of her and frowned, hoping to see a red head alongside a bouncing head of black hair. No such luck.

"Hermione!" Ron bellowed as he leapt to the spot next to her.

She nearly shot into the air.

"You won't _believe_ what Snape did!" Harry grumbled from her other side.

"Oh?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

The mention of Severus made her realize how tired she was. She'd been having poor sleep again, and often ended up turning to classic novels to occupy her thoughts and help her forget the dreams she'd been having.

"We were practicing defensive spells," Ron said, unnecessarily.

They were in Defense Against the Dark Arts. What else would they be practicing?

"Yes?" she prompted.

"And Crabbe and Goyle were paired up," Harry continued darkly. "But then they started throwing hexes at _us_. So of course, we retaliated!"

She sighed. "Naturally."

"And Snape deducted points from _us_ and gave us detention for next week!" Ron concluded angrily.

Hermione wondered if they'd considered whether or not it was a good idea to complain about Severus to the woman who was in love with him. And then decided that it didn't matter, since they were doing it either way. She tried to suppress a frown, but failed when she saw the pout on Ron's face.

"Did you try to explain what really happened?" she asked, trying to be patient.

"Of course we did!" Ron exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"Sort of," Harry added, then hurried on before Hermione could say anything more. "Snape is biased, though. He hates us."

"Have you really given him reason to _like_ you?" she replied, shaking her head. "And I don't think arguing with him about his decision is really going to get him to listen. You could try, just once, explaining calmly and rationally. And even if he doesn't believe you, he might just go lighter on you."

Ron scoffed immediately. "Yeah, right. The only way we can get him to hear us is to argue our case."

He nodded superiorly, but Harry looked less certain.

"Oh, yes, because treating people with absolutely no respect has gained you so many favors in the past," Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes.

Ron's pout deepened. "Come on, Hermione! You know it was unfair!"

"You two have done nothing but create disruptions in his class," she reasoned. "What else should he expect?"

"Well, he should've noticed that it was Crabbe and Goyle who started the trouble," Harry said quietly, as though unsure.

"Does he have eyes in the back of his head now? How is he supposed to keep an eye on each and every student all the time?" she asked pointedly. "That's downright impossible. Even Professor McGonagall has difficulty catching culprits at times, and _she's_ been teaching longer than Severus."

"I wish you wouldn't call him that," Ron grumbled.

Harry saved him from whatever reaction Hermione might have had.

"I guess that's true. But still…I mean, come on, they _did_ start it," he said, making a last-ditch effort.

Hermione sighed. "As disruptive and disrespectful as the two of you are in his class, you _are_ more responsible, more talented, and more mature than Crabbe and Goyle. You should know better than to continue a childish fight. He even knows that Crabbe and Goyle are juvenile, at best. For all you know, he holds you at a higher standard than them, however slight it may be."

Before the boys could put up more protests, Hermione quickened her pace and beckoned for them to hurry up.

"You don't want to completely miss the match, do you?" she called over her shoulder.

They were at her side in a flash.

* * *

Severus watched the three Gryffindors trot down the mostly empty corridor and slowed his steps, allowing them to get ahead of him. He wasn't truly that interested in the Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin match anyway (outside of expecting Slytherin to come out the victor), and he wanted to consider what it might mean that Hermione was defending him to her two best—albeit annoying—friends. Not to mention what it meant that she freely referred to him by his given name.

This opportunity had been completely unexpected, but he'd taken it as soon as he knew that Potter and Weasley were whining to Hermione about their "unfair" punishment. Her reaction was altogether pleasing. Not to mention, completely correct.

Severus scoffed in remembrance of his conversation with Minerva earlier that week. _The woman obviously has no idea what she's talking about_, he thought scornfully. However, it wouldn't hurt to take away…slightly less points than he had been. Just to make sure that Hermione didn't rally with another ridiculous cause. He could just see the flyer now: "Join U.G.H. (Unfair Gypping of Hufflepuffs) and help stop the cruel treatment of Hufflepuff House!"

Severus' lips twitched with amusement as he made his way into the crowd.


	11. Seventh Year: Part Three

**Disclaimer:** I continue to not own this, despite my best efforts to find a genie or a Time Turner.

**A/N:** I know everyone is impatient for some serious Severus/Hermione interaction, but just bear with me for a couple more chapters, and then we'll be neck-deep in it. Thanks for your patience and your great feedback.

* * *

A mid-November morning found Crookshanks lying quite happily on Hermione's hip, content enough to purr as his mistress slept. Sort of. Well, actually, she was wide awake and huffing, but he was still content to occupy her side and monopolize her entire morning. It was too early for her to wake up, anyway. She needed to stay in bed.

Of course, just as Crookshanks reached this conclusion, Hermione tossed aside the covers and started to ease out of the bed. He clambered down from her side as she sat up, glaring at her once before cleaning his paw with dignity.

"Sorry, Crooks," Hermione said hoarsely. "It's time to get up."

Crookshanks' tail twitched rapidly as he sat on the bed, watching her walk to the armoire to lay out the clothes she'd wear for the day. It was most certainly _not_ time to get up. It was time for her to pet him. As usual, Hermione was deaf to his protests. She went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

He made a meow of protest and leapt off the bed to paw at the closed door. Normally, she let him inside with her and she would pet him and let him sit on the edge of the sink while she cleaned her teeth. Hermione had been becoming less and less attentive as time went on, however. Which Crookshanks was quite displeased about.

She was hardly ever home to spend time with him. And when she was, she was sluggish and tired. She never slept, either. Or when she did, she kept him up at all hours tossing and turning and talking about that Severus man. Crookshanks had been trying to inform her for several days that she needed to sleep. She wasn't getting enough—that he was sure of. And he didn't like the thought of her having to go away for a long time like she did when she was sick.

That was always when that silly Ginny girl came and "took care" of him, and Crookshanks didn't like it one bit. She would visit once a day to give him food, water, and change his box. Then she'd give him a little pet and tell him his mum missed him (of _course_ she missed him—that wasn't news) and then she'd leave. She was a horrible caretaker.

His mum was the only one who could take proper care of him—he was sure of it.

Crookshanks busied himself with cleaning a dirty spot on his hip while he waited for Hermione to exit the bathroom. He got bored waiting so he played with the box from one of the toys his mum had gotten him. Soon, Hermione exited with a towel wrapped around her and that lovely fresh scent of flowers and mints that always accompanied her after she went into that horrible deathtrap.

He always tried to stop her from entering the water-spraying chamber of doom, but she seemed to like it. And at least she smelled really good when she got out.

She still looked tired. He could see it in her movements. She was moving so slowly, and she was so unaware of everything that went on around her. He'd startled her just by leaping up onto the bed when she picked up her shirt. She hadn't been _this_ tired a couple of weeks ago.

Crookshanks quickly decided that his mum wasn't allowed to leave the room until she got some real sleep. If she was allowed to go out into the world in _this_ state, who knew what would happen to her! And without him to protect her, as well. All kinds of evils could befall her. Things could fall on her head!

He'd been tempted not to let her leave in the past, too. That Severus man had a tendency to put her in a dreadful state, and Crookshanks didn't like that. People should only make his mum happy, so that she would be in a good mood and want to pet him all night. Really, the Severus man wasn't worth all this restless sleep.

Crookshanks shot off the bed when he realized his mum was fully dressed and heading for the door. He beat her down the stairs and lay down directly in front of the door. There. Now she wouldn't be going anywhere.

Hermione finally reached the last step and slung her bag over her shoulder. She walked toward him and abruptly stopped when she noticed he wasn't moving. Crookshanks stared up at her smugly.

"Okay, Crookshanks. I have to go now," Hermione said, gesturing for him to move.

He yowled at her. She blinked.

"What? You have food!" she informed him, sweeping an arm to indicate the stairs.

She didn't get it. Crookshanks rolled onto his side. He wasn't moving until she agreed to stay home today.

"What do you want?" Hermione mumbled curiously, setting her bag on the floor next to her.

He purred at her and she picked him up, hugging him to her shoulder. Crookshanks promptly struggled to get away. If he didn't guard the door, she would leave! She started stroking his back.

"I'm sorry, Crooks," Hermione said sweetly. "I know I haven't been around much lately, have I?"

_You got that right_, Crookshanks thought irritably. His annoyance started to melt away when she scratched behind his right ear. Oh, that was nice. But he had to keep her from going! Still…she hadn't done that in a _really_ long time and….

"How about this? I'll make you a deal," she continued in her angelic voice and scratching with those heavenly fingers. "I'll skip the library tonight and spend the evening with you. How does that sound?"

_Like you are the best person ever_. He purred appreciatively and nuzzled her cheeks. She chuckled and gave him one last scratch before setting him down. She told him she'd see him later, and then she was gone. Crookshanks wondered briefly how she'd managed to manipulate him into letting her through the door.

* * *

Hermione stifled a yawn as she flipped through the pages of the book McGonagall had recommended to her for researching on her next paper. The first-years were learning about Switching Spells, but they weren't doing any actual practicing, so Hermione didn't need to aid McGonagall with the slower learners. She remembered being so disappointed that they wouldn't be doing the more advanced types of Switching Spells she'd read about when McGonagall introduced the lesson in her first-year. She smiled a little and concentrated on reading again.

It felt like she hadn't slept in eons. She'd increased her workload again as the holiday season approached, which she now realized may not have been the wisest decision. She was exhausted whenever she took even a moment to stop. So she made a point of not stopping, which Crookshanks had made rather difficult that morning when he apparently decided that she needed to lay in bed despite not being able to sleep anyway.

"…Miss Granger will be teaching you the proper way to perform it," McGonagall was saying.

Hermione's gaze shot from her book to the teacher at the head of the room. McGonagall had told her at the beginning of the week that she wanted her to teach a lesson to the first-years, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon! And what was she teaching? Something about Switching Spells? Hermione immediately started to panic when dozens of eyes went expectantly to her.

McGonagall smiled warmly at her and Hermione cleared her throat, fighting the warring butterflies in her stomach. She slipped a blank piece of parchment in to hold her page and stood, wiping suddenly sweaty palms on her robes. When she reached McGonagall, she pulled her wand out and leaned closer, so she could ask what she was supposed to do. McGonagall beat her to it.

"You're instructing them on how to perform a Switching Spell," she whispered hastily. "It's rather simple, really, and they all have the objects on their desks. Simply teach them the incantation, the wand movement, and tell them exactly what will happen."

Hermione nodded rapidly when McGonagall pulled back to see if she understood. McGonagall smiled in her maternal way and rested a hand on Hermione's shoulder. Feeling bolstered by this show of confidence, Hermione turned to face the class, while McGonagall stepped aside to give her the floor.

"Uh…okay," Hermione began, looking down at all the little faces staring expectantly up at her.

Her stomach's activities increased and she took deep, bracing breaths. _How on earth does Sev—Professor McGonagall and the others do this every day?!_ she wondered, feeling her respect increase for all her teachers—which she really didn't know was possible.

"T-to swap the…." She glanced down in what she hoped was a surreptitious manner to see what they were practicing with. "To switch the lid of the box onto the other one…y-you would move your wand i-in this way."

Hermione did the movement very slowly, keeping her arm up so everyone could see. Dozens of eyes followed her hand up and down and to the side, and when she stopped, they went back to her. She fought the blush struggling to rise and immediately pulled up the composed expression she now kept handy, in case of run-ins with a certain man. Letting students see weakness was about as good an idea as letting a hippogriff eat directly from your hand.

"Did everyone catch that?" she inquired, forcing her voice to remain steady.

No one said anything. They all just squirmed in their chairs and stared at their desks.

"Don't be shy now," Hermione encouraged. "If you didn't catch it, it's okay. I don't mind showing you again."

There was more shifting and then, finally, a young Ravenclaw raised her hand, just enough to let Hermione see. A few more followed the leader and Hermione smiled in relief.

"Oh, good. I was hoping you weren't all that quick in catching on," she joked. "What would you need _me_ for?"

There were a few quiet giggles and Hermione smiled, feeling a bit better now.

"Okay, watch closely now."

Hermione performed the movement again, just as slowly as the time before that. A glance at McGonagall heightened the good feeling starting to creep up—the older witch was smiling at her.

"Everyone get it this time?" Hermione asked once she'd finished repeating the motion.

This time there were several positive answers from the group and Hermione felt the thrill of accomplishment start to push away the last of the butterflies in her stomach. She smiled warmly at the group.

"As you all know, you speed up the movement for the actual spell," she told them, pointing her wand at the box, "and add the incantation. The incantations for Switching Spells are all different, depending on what you are transfiguring. I believe there is a list of useful incantations on page 247 of your textbooks, if you care to study it later. The incantation for this transfiguration, however, is '_Mutocaput_'. Can I hear everyone repeat that?"

As a group, they all repeated it. A young Hufflepuff did so with such gusto that there were giggles around him after he'd bellowed it out. Hermione smiled patiently.

"Excellent! After you put all the steps together, the lids of the boxes will switch, but you won't see them fly and refasten—they'll transfigure," she continued, fighting a smile as she raised her wand and several chairs shifted simultaneously as the students paid closer attention. "Like so: _Mutocaput_."

The lids altered themselves easily and Hermione almost laughed at the looks of pure amazement on the students' faces. _I wonder what they would've done if I had done it nonverbally_, she pondered in amusement.

"Take out your wands and try it," she instructed.

The students all reached into their robes and pulled out their wands. A young Ravenclaw went ahead before the rest of them, and Hermione was quick to catch the girl's small mispronunciation. The girl made a face at Hermione's correction, but when it actually worked when she tried it again, she flushed and smiled sheepishly. Hermione merely smiled back and paced the room, helping the students as best she could. A few of them got it right away—some needed a little more practice.

Hermione tried to be as patient with them as possible, which wasn't too hard. She was fascinated by watching the students' different reactions and the techniques they used. And she was consumed by the feeling of pride and joy when they succeeded as it pushed through both nervousness and the exhaustion still lingering on the edges of her mind. When everyone had gotten it, she went back to the front of the room.

"Well done, everyone."

She smiled widely at the now-beaming faces and glanced at McGonagall, who came striding over immediately. If Hermione hadn't known the stern woman for seven years, she would've assumed the look on her face was annoyance, but she could see the slight curve to the corners of her mouth now. She was holding back an expression of pride, and Hermione wondered if the older witch was experiencing the same joy she had in seeing her students succeed.

"Thank Miss Granger, now," McGonagall ordered, and there was a collective "thank you" from the group.

The Hufflepuff boy was, again, very boisterous about it.

"Miss Granger will be teaching a lesson fairly regularly from now on, so I hope you all enjoyed that," she continued, shooting a small smile Hermione's way.

Hermione couldn't help but blush when the students all responded with claps and positive chattering. She sincerely couldn't wait for the next first-year class—she loved this teaching business. She couldn't imagine this good feeling letting her fade away to exhaustion.

* * *

"Stop poking her," Harry ordered, yet again. "You'll wake her up."

"That's kind of the point," Ron replied, mouth full of sausage. "She'll be mad if we let her sleep."

Hermione was slumped across the table over an open book that she'd been in the middle of reading when she made the mistake of resting her head on her fist. Harry and Ginny were serving as buffers for people who would disturb her, but Ron kept reaching across the table to tap her.

"I don't care," Harry replied sharply. "She hardly sees us as it is, so we won't even notice her being mad. She needs rest. Look at her. She's had circles under her eyes and her nose lodged in a book every time we've seen her since the Quidditch match—and we haven't seen her much."

"Yeah…so she should be awake when she actually _does_ get to see us," he argued after a refreshing drink of pumpkin juice. "Besides, she got mad the other day when I let her sleep through the homework help time she agreed to do with me."

"Would you rather have her awake when she sees us or have her end up collapsing in the middle of Flitwick's room from exhaustion?" Ginny put in pointedly.

"I'd rather she stop working so bloody hard," Ron shot back, scowling. "I mean, this is mad! She doesn't see anybody, she doesn't sleep, she hardly eats, and she hasn't left the library since the beginning of the school year!"

"I think that's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you?" she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, when she's not in the library, she's in a classroom with one of her masters," Ron replied sourly.

"And don't forget, when she's not in a classroom with one of her masters, she's tutoring Asher," Harry added bitterly.

"That's another thing! Why does this twit get more time with her than we do, huh?" Ron nearly exclaimed.

"Shh," Ginny hissed when Hermione shifted in her sleep.

"She's tutoring him, remember?" Harry murmured, patting the limp hand that was resting next to him. "It's really business, not pleasure."

"Besides, we all like Asher," Ginny added, nodding superiorly. "And he actually gets her to laugh once in a while. It's good for her."

All three of them went silent and Harry knew the other two were thinking exactly what he was. He glanced furtively up at the High Table and the impassive Potions Master, who picked at his meal with disinterest. Harry wished the great git would get it over with—be it good or bad news—so Hermione could get on with her life.

* * *

Another few weeks later, Hermione stretched her legs out and refocused her eyes on the sentence she'd just been reading. Thanks to her friends, she'd been sleeping more than she liked. The onslaught of dreams and the desire to drift back off to sleep wasn't welcome. She had to admit privately to needing the rest, but she often woke up feeling more grouchy and tired than she had when she went to sleep. And it certainly didn't put her in the mood to do some more hard work.

She shot a glance at Ginny, who had been stuck to her side since dinner ended. She'd wondered if she and Draco had gotten into another argument, but Ginny claimed that everything was fine. Just that she thought it would be nice if they got to spend some time together. So Hermione let her join her in an empty classroom, where she proceeded to study her Arithmancy textbook and Ginny began flipping through a _Witch Weekly_.

Ron had used the same excuse last week, when he wanted help with his Potions homework. He wanted to spend time with her, and if she didn't help him, he'd fail. Well, she didn't want him getting 'T's on all his papers, so she'd agreed. But now she was starting to suspect that her friends were up to something with all their wanting to spend time with her. They'd never asked to spend time with her before. Why now?

Someone knocked and opened the door. A blond head popped into the opening.

"Hope I'm not disturbing you. Potter said you'd be in here," Draco said quietly, grinning.

Ginny beamed at him. "No, come on in."

He hesitated and cleared his throat. "Well, you have to close your eyes."

Hermione exchanged a puzzled glance with Ginny.

"Uh…why?" Ginny asked, chuckling a little.

"I…there's a surprise and I…please?" Draco begged, shooting her a winning grin.

"All right, fine. Have it your way." Ginny closed her eyes, but before Draco could come in, she added, "But if I open my eyes and my clothes are gone, I'm going to be very put out."

Draco's grin widened. "You, too, Hermione. Close your eyes."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is that really necessary? Unless the surprise is for me—"

"Do it, Granger," he ordered in his most commanding voice.

She rolled her eyes again, huffed, and closed her eyes. Hoping and praying she wouldn't fall asleep again. The door shut and she heard Draco creep across the room and then settle something heavy onto a desk. There were a couple more steps and then he took a breath.

"Okay…open!" he said grandly.

Hermione dragged her eyelids open and took in the sight of an extremely delighted Ginny gaping at a beautiful tawny owl, which was pressing its beak through the bars, presumably begging for treats.

"He's gorgeous!" Ginny exclaimed, standing abruptly and walking around the cage to look at the owl from all sides.

The owl turned on its perch with Ginny and, at her proclamation, promptly _hoo_ed at her. Hermione shook her head in disbelief. This had to have cost Draco a lot. She glanced at him, but he was just grinning as he watched Ginny's expression.

"He's for you," Draco said eventually. "I thought, you know, since your brother has his own and that Errol bird is so old, that maybe you might want your own. So you can send messages to your friends over the hols. An-and to me."

Hermione fought a smile when Draco's ears turned a light shade of pink. Ginny was still grinning, and she bounded up to Draco and wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh, thank you so much! He's so beautiful!" she gushed, squeezing Draco with what Hermione was sure was all her strength.

"I wanted to get you an eagle owl, but I didn't have enough money," he admitted, rocking her back and forth a bit. "And my father wouldn't give me the money when I told him what it was for."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably when she saw Ginny stroke Draco's hair comfortingly. She was becoming a _bit_ of a third wheel now. She started to put away her books as quietly as possible. Ginny rocked back on her heels, but stayed encircled in Draco's arms. Hermione was half-stunned, half-happy to see how perfectly content Ginny seemed to be right there.

"He's perfect," Ginny said firmly. "What's his name?"

Draco grinned again. "You can name him whatever you want. He's yours."

Ginny nearly bounced on the spot. "How about Owen?"

Hermione paused in standing up to gauge Draco's reaction. He was now looking at Ginny quite seriously, although there was still a curve to his lips. She watched his eyes lower to her lips and shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to interrupt the moment, but itching to leave.

"Perfect," Draco murmured, just loud enough for it to reach Hermione's ears.

She happened to glance up and found the couple kissing, quite chastely. Hermione blushed and cleared her throat. The two immediately broke apart, but Draco kept his arms locked around Ginny.

"I have some more work to do. See you tomorrow," Hermione managed, then hurried from the room before either of them could issue a protest.

* * *

"Hermione!" Ginny called, just as the door slammed shut.

Draco frowned after her in concern, but it was quickly directed to Ginny instead when she stomped her foot angrily.

"Shite!"

"What? What's wrong?" he asked quickly, searching her eyes.

"Tonight was…well, it was supposed to be sort of a girl's night," she admitted reluctantly. "It was to make her feel a bit better about, well…you know. And now I've gone and mucked it up."

"You? No, this is my fault. I didn't realize—"

"Which is exactly why it's not your fault," she cut in, sighing. "I probably made things worse. I should've…I don't know."

Draco tugged her against him and kissed her forehead.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he murmured comfortingly, rocking her.

Ginny abruptly broke away and he panicked, wondering what he'd said wrong. She began pacing the floor, not looking at either him or the owl. She took several deep breaths, as though she wanted to say something, but kept changing her mind. Draco knew by now that she just needed some time to get up the gumption, so he waited quietly.

"Nothing wrong, huh?" she murmured at last, coming to a stop next to the desk she'd chosen. "This is _all_ my fault. If I hadn't been so stupid and asked Hermione all those questions when she was under the influence of Veritaserum, then Snape never would have found out and Hermione never would've tried to work herself to death so she doesn't have to think about him or what he's going to say about how she feels at the end of the year."

"Hey," Draco said, softly. "You didn't know. You couldn't have known. I mean, _I_ probably could've stopped it simply by putting a stop to Pansy and Millicent's games. Dumbledore or Slughorn, or even Snape, could've stopped you from questioning her when they realized something was wrong. And Snape could've told her how he felt right then, instead of torturing her like this."

"I should've known, though," she protested, shaking her head. "I should've realized."

Draco crossed to her and wrapped her in his arms again, smiling a little when he felt her tuck herself against his shoulder.

"You made a mistake," he admitted softly. She tensed, but he went on. "We all do. I should know—I've made plenty. But you're sorry, and Hermione forgave you, and now you forgive yourself and you move on. And try to make up for it by helping her through this now." He smirked a little. "And by getting to know Owen."

He felt Ginny's silent laugh before she pulled back and kissed him briefly.

"I can certainly do that," she said softly. "Want to help me teach him his name?"

Draco grinned. "I'd be delighted."

And, eventually, Draco had Ginny cheered up again, with the help of Owen, who was particularly happy to meet her.

* * *

Hermione sighed heavily and sank under the covers. She really didn't want to sleep, but the library was closed and it was past her curfew; so she didn't really have any other choice but to come home. Crookshanks immediately launched himself onto her side, as though that would keep her in bed, and she idly stroked his head before relaxing into the bed. The tension built up over the weeks started to drain again, leaving an aching knot in her neck.

Crookshanks' steady purr had her eyes drifting closed as she lay against the pillow, and her mind wandered to her sanctuary, the room with candles and books and Severus….

_This time, he wasn't reading. In fact, he was waiting for her, and he tugged her hard against him and kissed her fiercely. She let her hands slide up his arms until she was cupping his cheeks. She accepted and waited out his demanding kiss until he was fully satisfied and pulled away, running his hands over her back._

"_You've been avoiding me again," Severus said sternly._

_Hermione looked down at where her fingers played with the button on his shirt, once again filled with shame. His fingers hit upon the knot in her neck and his brow arched high on his forehead._

"_You must take better care of yourself," he instructed, and she found herself nodding._

_Severus grasped her hand and tugged her over to the settee, sitting her down. A peaceful feeling spread through her as he sat behind her, his hands working over her tense muscles and easing them into relaxation. Her neck arched when he rubbed at her shoulders and pressed into the knot. She automatically released the tension and his hands smoothed down her back and then around her sides, brushing against her breasts as he reached around in front of her._

_His warm breath was on her ear and he kissed her neck gently as he began tugging the buttons on her blouse loose, one by one. His thighs were pressed against hers so she felt as though she were being wrapped completely in his embrace. She rested against him as he finished unbuttoning her shirt, her own hands rubbing over his arms._

_Severus eased her forward a bit and pulled the shirt down over her shoulders, letting the material slide over her skin like silk. Hermione shuddered and sighed contentedly when he tugged her back against him again, letting his hands rub over her front in a most arousing manner. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and she moaned as he let his lips drag along her shoulder and up her neck._

_All she wanted at the moment was to have his skin against hers, and, almost before she'd finished the thought, Severus pulled her around and laid her back on the settee, peeling off his shirt as he did so. Hermione smiled and welcomed him into her arms, feeling peaceful at last._

_

* * *

_

The next day, Hermione had tutoring with Asher. Since Saturday was the last Hogsmeade trip before everyone's Sunday departure for the holidays, they'd decided to move their studying to Friday evening, so that they could have more time for last-minute shopping the next day. Hermione had nearly forgotten about the upcoming holidays, so she had some serious catching up to do. She at least had a present for Harry that she had been going to give him for his birthday, but she'd decided to save it, since she already got him two other gifts.

Presently, Hermione was again noticing how anxious Asher seemed. He kept bouncing his knees, which was a normal habit for him, but it was usually only one at a time. Tonight, both of them were going full speed, and his quill was whipping through the air as his fingers fidgeted. She tried to ignore both distracting movements and keep on with the lesson, since she assumed he would tell her if something was bothering him.

Actually, Hermione couldn't imagine anything bothering Asher at all. She'd known him for almost four months now, and not once had anything made him the least bit upset. She found it a little odd, actually. To her, getting upset and distressed and so on about things was a sign of truly caring; and if Asher didn't react to anything beyond grinning and making a joke, how much could he really care?

Then again, she didn't see too much of him outside of tutoring or walking to class. So perhaps he didn't really show her his true self.

Hermione shrugged the thoughts off and glanced up to see if Asher understood so far. She'd found that it was best to read the textbook sentence and then translate it into "normal person" speak. Cut out the middle man, as it were, so he wouldn't have to ask what it meant. Since she'd started using this method, Asher caught on a lot quicker.

He was even nodding rapidly now. Although the rapidity of his nod could've had something to do with the fact that he was acting like he'd eaten five gift-size boxes of Honeyduke's chocolate before meeting up with her.

She smiled weakly and glanced at her watch.

"Well, I suppose we should start wrapping it up," she said reluctantly. She really didn't want to go to bed. "It's nearing your curfew. I'll just read through this last page and you should be all caught up for the holidays."

Asher grinned when she looked up. "Sounds great."

Hermione nodded and returned her attention to the page she was on. She wondered if he'd be okay over the holidays, or if she should send him study material every week. It might keep her mind off of things if she had something academic like that to do. She decided to ask him when they finished.

Perhaps she could even ask her masters to give her homework for the break. Although McGonagall was likely to say no, in the nicest way possible. Hermione had noticed that the older witch was becoming more and more hesitant to make her do things of late. She would still have her teach first-year lessons, but that seemed to be because she could tell how much Hermione enjoyed it. McGonagall had pushed back the due date for Hermione's most recent paper and, during breaks between classes, practically made her stop researching and have tea with her.

Flitwick and Septima, as the witch had asked Hermione to call her, were a bit less troublesome in that arena. They'd even started having her teach a few lessons, as well, and weren't nearly so picky about when she worked and when she didn't. They seemed to like leaving it up to her, although Hermione had caught Septima giving her a curious look a few times.

Hermione realized she'd reached the end of the page shortly after this thought and closed the book, offering Asher a smile.

"I guess that's it," she told him, then began packing up her things, as she expected him to do.

She was just leaning over to slide one of her books back into her bag when she felt something warm wrap around the hand still holding her quill. She froze in place. The warm thing wrapped more firmly around her, giving it a squeeze. Hermione sat up bolt right and stared down at Asher's hand around hers.

She took a breath, preparing to say something, but she didn't know what to say. So she closed her mouth again and met Asher's earnest eyes. His mouth was still curved in a smile, she noted, even though the rest of his expression was sincere.

"Hermione, I-I was wondering if you'd…maybe like to go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?" Asher said boldly, and then he was off, as usual. "As in, a date. I really like you; I think you're smart, and funny, and beautiful. I've probably been pretty obvious about it, actually. Subtlety never really was my thing. But back to you." He suddenly released her hand and leapt out of his chair, pacing back and forth in front of her. "You're great, and I know you like me, or else you would've told me to please bugger off a long time ago." He flashed a grin at her. "That's one of the best things about you: you're so honest. And you're nice, at the same time. So I guess if it wasn't obvious before, it sure is now. I like you. I think we'd be really good together. I know I can make you laugh. So, will you go with me?"

Hermione had _no_ idea what to respond to first. The fact that the bouncy, funny _friend_ she'd known for four months had, presumably this entire time, liked her and thought they'd be a good couple and was now asking her out; that he thought he'd been _obvious_ and she had completely missed it; or that he thought she was smart, funny, _beautiful_, great, honest, and nice. Well, some of that was true, of course. She was definitely smart, if nothing else. Although maybe she wasn't that, either, since she'd missed something this big. And what did he mean, beautiful? With all that bushy hair and her unfortunately huge buck teeth—of course, those were fixed now, but still…. _Focus, for crying out loud!_ she admonished.

Her brain promptly froze. What was she supposed to _say_? She couldn't think of anything. Nothing came to mind _at all_. Other than maybe "no." Which was rather harsh and came from the "honest" part of her brain he spoke of. The part she'd used on his brother a year before.

She didn't want to be mean to Asher. She _liked_ Asher. Not liked-liked, but liked. As a friend. He was a nice person. Like Harry or Ron. Except not, because Asher wasn't really brother-like to her, unlike those two, because they were her best friends and she'd known them forever. So maybe he was like Neville. Only he definitely wasn't like Neville, because she'd known Neville for years, too, and he was like a cousin or something. No, Asher was more like…Viktor!

And for a split-second, with that comparison, Hermione wondered what would happen if she said yes. She could see it all in only milliseconds: they'd have a great time, they'd get married right out of Hogwarts, have matching Pygmy Puffs, pop out three kids named Ashley, Herman, and Cuthbert, and grow old together. And he _would_ make her laugh.

Life was giving her another chance to take that other road, the easier one, with someone who was clearly nuts about her. Hermione didn't hesitate or think about it this time, as she had three years ago. There was something she knew now, and that thing wouldn't let her take the wrong road this time.

No matter how content she would be in her life with Asher, that's all that it would ever be. Contentedness, plain and simple. She would never be one tenth as happy as she would be with Severus. And even if Severus didn't love her and planned to reject her at the end of the year, it wasn't fair to her, to Severus, or to Asher to deny them all the chance of having true happiness one day by making the wrong choice now.

Hermione suddenly felt much calmer than she had just moments ago. She knew exactly what she needed to do now, and her mind quieted from its former frenzy. She loved Severus, and that was that.

Of course, looking up into Asher's expectant and nervous face, Hermione couldn't bring herself to tell him that. She couldn't say, "I'm in love with someone else." That wouldn't make it better, or easier on him. In fact, there was really no easy way to tell him, no way to make it hurt less. Except tell the truth, as it was, concerning the two of them.

At long last, Hermione took a deep breath and got to her feet, facing Asher head-on. His head tilted to one side in puzzlement as he watched her. He was still smiling a little. She hoped that smile didn't flicker.

"Asher, I-I think you're a great person," Hermione said carefully, while still remaining as honest as she could. "You're funny and friendly and…extremely energetic. And nice, too. Those are great qualities to have. You're a good friend, but that…that's all I can see you as. That's all I can give you: my friendship."

His head dropped automatically when he heard that "but." Hermione winced and pushed herself onward. She wanted to pat him or something, but making contact with him would only make things worse.

"I hope you can accept that, because I'd really hate to lose you as a friend," she continued, wringing her hands. "And I'm sorry I didn't realize how you felt. I wouldn't have…I would've said something, if I had. I'm really sorry."

Asher lifted his head as she said this and Hermione was horrified to realize that he was no longer smiling. Instead, conflicting emotions swarmed over his features and he let the embarrassment, surprise, and hurt battle for control without putting up much of a fight. Hermione swallowed hard and backed up a step.

"I am. I'm sorry," she managed, and then she could bear the evident hurt in his eyes no longer.

She grabbed her bag and fled the room as fast as her legs would carry her.

* * *

Severus stalked the halls of the castle, feeling very little true interest in his duties tonight. Fortunately, the punishments to be doled out had been few and far between. He could only assume the sudden obedience from the student body was due to their eagerness to return home without a detention hanging over their heads. If only that same worry kept them from misbehaving before the summer.

Someone's shoes struck the stone floor sharply as they approached around the corner. No student could possibly be stupid enough to make that much noise whilst staying out after curfew, could they? He almost laughed at himself. There was no limit to the levels those ignoramuses could sink. Still, it could be a fellow professor, in a rush or upset over something or other.

They sounded as though they were coming his way, so he didn't change his pace. As predicted, they whipped around the corner just as he was approaching and nearly bowled him over. But rather than the "sneaking" little student or angry professor he'd been expecting, Severus was stunned to find Hermione pulling up in front of him, looking distressed at best.

He halted as well, staring down at her bewildered features and taking a strong hold on himself. It wasn't safe to be this close to her, but he couldn't take a step back. She'd already misunderstood his intentions enough without furthering her misgivings by refusing to allow her within a certain radius.

Hermione merely stood there, registering his presence, it seemed. She looked as exhausted as Minerva suggested she was. He observed the deep circles under her eyes with a frown. Just as he opened his mouth, thinking to ask what she was doing out so late, her expression turned…wounded.

Severus didn't know what to say to _that_. Had he somehow hurt her simply by standing there? She let out a breath and broke eye contact, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, "I can't deal with this."

He went to speak, but, again, she cut him off. This time she launched herself forward and past him, hurrying away much as she had rushed toward him before. And this time, he distinctly heard her say, "Why are boys so _stupid_?"

Well, that was…odd. He certainly hoped she wasn't referring to him. He wasn't a boy, by any stretch of the imagination. And he definitely wasn't stupid.

It occurred to him then that tomorrow was a Hogsmeade visit, since Dumbledore was intent on giving the students an "extra day of holiday shopping". Hermione tutored Twiddlorf on Saturdays, and it was likely that she switched the session to Fridays for Hogsmeade weeks, so that the boy could go gallivanting in the village. Severus' mood darkened immediately and he strode around the corner and down the corridor, taking what he presumed was the path she'd taken to come to him.

Hermione's comment and troubled expression implied that the twit had done something to upset her in some way. Perhaps something inappropriate, and Severus wouldn't allow the bawdy whelp to get away with that, just on principle. He was about to start checking rooms when one of them opened of their own accord, and then the vomitus ponce stepped out, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went.

Rather than strike then, Severus waited in the shadows, a growing feeling of…delight overtaking him. The dim-witted prat looked even more upset than Hermione had. And even better, he looked crestfallen. So there were some things in this world that even that exceedingly—and nauseatingly—happy cretin couldn't withstand. And Hermione Granger rejecting him was assuredly one of them.

* * *

Hermione spent the entirety of Saturday in the library, except for the early morning, when she hid in her room and pretended to be asleep when her friends came knocking. They expected her to join them in Hogsmeade, she knew, but she'd decided that simply ordering gifts from the shops would have to do. She didn't feel like seeing anyone, or explaining what happened the night before.

Dobby did stop by to give her breakfast and a very late dinner when she returned to her quarters that night. She'd thanked him and, as usual, he went on a diatribe about always being grateful to serve Harry Potter and Harry Potter's friends. She gave him a new sock that she'd found time to knit when she'd been thinking about holiday gifts earlier in the week. He didn't stop bowing until he left the room.

The rest of the night was spent packing—another duty that had been overlooked in her determination to work hard and avoid thinking too much. When she had everything but the necessities put away, Hermione flopped into bed with Crookshanks and told him about her brief run-in with Severus. Crookshanks listened intently the whole way through her story and the disorganized feelings and thoughts she had about it.

She wasn't sure why he hadn't said anything. Not even a "Miss Granger." He only stared at her, the entire time. Of course, she'd been in a whirlwind of emotions _before_ she ran into him, and then seeing him stirred up even more. Not the least of which was desire. So she supposed she hadn't exactly acted "normal" during their encounter, either.

Crookshanks came to the conclusion that "meow" was the reason for his odd behavior. Hermione quite agreed.

The next morning, it was, at long last, time for the holiday to begin. Hermione put Crookshanks in his carrier, packed the last of her things, said goodbye to Loki (who told her to send a postcard), and headed out with Harry and Luna, Ron and Lavender, and Ginny and Draco preceding her. Packing into a booth in such a large group proved to be challenging, at best, so Hermione found Neville and she, Ginny, and Draco shared his booth with him.

Neville still felt a little…well, awkward about Draco. So he stayed by Hermione the entire train ride, telling her all about what his plans were for the hols and how much he was enjoying Advanced Herbology. This, fortunately, kept her mind occupied enough that she didn't fall asleep, like a part of her was telling her she desperately needed to.

When they finally reached the platform, Hermione spied her parents occupying a bench as the train was pulling to a stop and a strong feeling of homesickness traveled through her. Later, she felt a little ridiculous about it, but she was so worn out and upset that all she could think was: _I want my mummy._

So, rather than waiting for her friends to get moving, Hermione pulled all of her luggage together and ran out to her parents as soon as she could. She fell into their arms with such great relief that she found herself smiling a little. Of course, after that, she had to pull herself together enough to say goodbye (for now) to her friends and watch Draco and Ginny part with sweet sorrow. Owen the owl said goodbye to Crookshanks, too, with a _hoo_. Crookshanks replied with a yowl.

Dad helped Hermione pack her things into the car and she answered their questions, but she didn't remember what any of them were. As soon as she settled into the backseat, Hermione's eyes closed and she was fast asleep, at long last, for the long haul.


	12. Seventh Year: Part Four

**Disclaimer:** Guess what? I still don't own this. Shocked, aren't you?

**A/N:** Before you ask, the music box appearing in this chapter is important. Next chapter will have the Severus/Hermione interaction, as promised.

* * *

Hermione woke gradually as her body informed her of some new needs she should take care of before resting some more. She lifted her head from her pillow and glanced around the sunlit room, squinting against the brightness of it. Crookshanks' warm weight was against her hip, and she felt the vibrations of his purrs through the blankets.

After a stretch where she did her best not to disturb him, Hermione glanced at her nightstand and discovered that it was two o'clock in the afternoon. She blinked twice and shook her head, but the time remained the same. She didn't even remember getting home last night, which prompted her to guess that either she'd managed the trek upstairs without conscious awareness, or that her father had carried her. She sincerely hoped not, since he had back troubles.

Still, at least she or her mum or someone had had enough sense to remove her winter clothes, socks, and shoes. She was still wearing her jeans, though, so she assumed that it had been someone else who took care of clothing removal. She yawned and sagged back into the mattress for a moment, letting her body have a little while longer to enjoy the sensation of _actually_ relaxing before she absolutely had to take care of its other pressing needs.

Hermione's sleep had been so sound that she hadn't dreamt at all, or at least not that she remembered. This was both a relief, since she really didn't want to have that sort of dream in her parents' house, and a disappointment, since that was the only time she would really get to "see" Severus until the school year began again. Although, avoiding him really didn't lead to seeing him, either….

Hermione brushed those traitorous thoughts aside, along with the brief question of whether or not Asher would be avoiding _her_ when school continued. She flung the blankets aside and hopped out of bed, being careful not to jostle Crookshanks too much. He woke anyway and proceeded to glare at her and clean himself.

She pulled fresh clothes out of her bags, along with her kit of hygienic care items, and bolted for the bathroom as quickly as she could. After a refreshing shower, she started properly unpacking and made sure to take care of Crookshanks' water and food situation first and foremost. She always left a fresh litter box for him at home, so she wouldn't have to take the one from school back and forth until summer. So that was all taken care of.

About the time she'd finished unpacking, Hermione's stomach made sure she knew it wasn't finished demanding the fulfillment of another need. Since she needed to see if her parents were home anyway, she obeyed its wish and padded barefoot down the stairs, peering about for her parents.

She pulled the hair up off her neck idly and scratched at the back of her head as she entered the kitchen, pulling up short when she realized her mother was there. Hermione smiled tiredly and hopped up on a stool. Mum was engrossed in one of those mystery novels she enjoyed so much and didn't even realize her daughter was sitting there, until Hermione prompted her.

"So, is it the butler or the maid this time?" she asked, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the center of the island.

Her mum jumped, then smiled broadly. "Oh! You startled me. Good afternoon, sweetheart."

She leaned across to give Hermione a kiss on the cheek, which Hermione accepted happily. She took a large bite out of the apple and her stomach thanked her profusely.

"I think it's the stable hand," Mum replied, sliding her bookmark into place. "But I'm only on chapter ten, so we'll see."

Which meant it was most certainly the stable hand, since Mum had the uncanny ability to pick out the perpetrator almost before the author finished the exposition. Hermione smiled and chewed, idly observing the familiar designs in the tiles on the floor.

"So, darling, how has your year been going so far?" Mum asked, folding her hands across her book and directing all of her attention onto Hermione.

Hermione cleared her throat. She sent letters to her parents frequently, even in her working frenzy. She made sure to set time aside every Sunday, which made it a bit easier to fill those days with something other than sitting in the library. Therefore, her parents were very up-to-date on how she was doing, and her mum wouldn't ask for no reason. She was building up to something.

"Fine," Hermione replied shortly, stalling for time by taking another small bite. "Just the usual, you know. Except with less classes, of course. Is Dad home?"

"No, he had to go into work," Mum answered calmly, apparently unfazed by Hermione's obvious attempt to maneuver her way out of the conversation. "Mr. Edelson was scheduled for a root canal. Have your masters been working you hard?"

"Not too awfully." She shifted on the stool. "Sounds painful."

"Indeed."

In some ways, Mum reminded Hermione of Ginny. Once she decided to talk to you about something, it was going to happen. There was no way on earth to dissuade her. Not even blurting out something ridiculous (like…"there's a gnome outside!", or "watch out, a Fanged Frisbee!", or even "I'm pregnant!") could stop her.

"And how is your tutoring with that Asher boy you wrote us about?" she continued, smiling. "I hope it doesn't take up too much of your time for relaxing."

"No, of course not," Hermione said dismissively. "It was only once a week, for an hour or two."

Then again, in some ways, Mum reminded Hermione of Hermione. She was too keen to semantics sometimes.

"Was? Has something happened?" she asked, former attentive smile giving way to a concerned frown.

Hermione shifted again, focusing on the white spots she'd created in the apple. She seriously considered taking another huge bite, just to avoid answering the question. Still, there was no reason not to tell her. She'd handled it, after all, and whatever happened next was up to Asher. She took a breath.

"I don't know if we'll be continuing tutoring when the holidays end," Hermione admitted quietly. "I sort of…found out something about him—about his feelings for…for me."

She reluctantly met her mother's eyes. Mum nodded sympathetically.

"Ah."

Hermione silently thanked her for not pressing the issue. She didn't know if she could take the "but I don't like him because I love Severus, my professor" conversation. Not just yet. Frankly, she was too tired to take the "why are you so tired" conversation, but there was no avoiding that one.

"So, he took up only a bit of your time, and your masters have been fairly easy on you?" Mum prompted after a moment.

Hermione nodded, waiting for her to go in for the kill.

"What has you so exhausted then, dear?" she asked gently, as though afraid to scare her off.

And there it was. Hermione took a deep breath. She could answer this any variety of ways. She could always use denial: 'what are you talking about? I'm not tired.' She could create a believable excuse and brush it off: 'Oh, it's just the holiday rushing getting to me. Shop 'til you drop, you know.' She could tell part of the truth and just leave out the important bits: 'I've been working very hard.' Or she could outright lie: 'I have mono.'

Ultimately, Hermione decided that it would be best to tell her mum the most awful thing she could think of: the truth. She set down her apple and took another deep breath.

"Well…I-I've been working really hard this year," she choked out, feeling the need for a glass of water when her mouth suddenly went dry. "Too hard. But…it's because I-I don't want to think about…something."

Mum tilted her head concernedly. "What is it you don't want to think about?"

Hermione avoided her eyes. "I-I don't want to tell you."

"Why?" To Hermione's shame, her mum sounded hurt. "What is it? You know you can tell me anything, don't you? I'll love you, no matter what."

"Mum, it's not that I don't…." She sighed. "I know you love me. It's just really hard for me to say to you, because…you'll be disappointed."

"I could never be disappointed in you," her mum said with such conviction that Hermione almost believed it.

Hermione sighed. "Promise not to tell Dad?"

She saw the look her mum was about to give her—it was lecture-time, so Hermione beat her to it.

"Please," she begged. "I normally wouldn't ask, but…it's just…I don't want him to know."

Mum didn't look happy about it, but she nodded eventually and added, quietly, "All right."

Hermione sighed, relieved. Sort of. She still had to actually tell her mother the truth, the whole truth. She chewed on a bit of the apple for a moment, letting the juice rejuvenate her hoarse throat.

"I…I've been trying not to think about…Professor Snape," she admitted softly.

Her mother looked confused. "Why's that?"

"Because…because I'm in love with him," Hermione blurted in one breath, automatically turning as red as the apple in her hand.

She reluctantly met her mum's gaze after a moment. She didn't look angry, or disgusted. All that Hermione could read in her expression was simple surprise. Which slowly melted into understanding, and her mother smiled and nodded.

"That's why you acted so strangely when we ran into him this summer," Mum said quietly.

"Beyond the fact that you were embarrassing me to death, yes," she retorted, stunned at her own sass.

Luckily, her mum just chuckled. "We're your parents. It's our job." She took a breath. "So, you're avoiding him because you love him?"

Hermione nodded, swallowing. "And he knows."

Again, surprise. "How?"

"It's a long story…having to do with cruel Slytherins, a very curious friend, and two very powerful potions," she explained with a long-suffering sigh. "Basically, I had no choice but to spill it all."

"I see. And what did Professor Snape have to say about this?" she asked, executing that creepy mother ability to ask exactly the right questions to get to the bottom of it all.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "H-he said he'd tell me at the end of this year, since I'm still his student and he can't really address it until I'm not." She paused, and her mum waited expectantly. "I guess I'm just not comfortable with it right now, even though he said nothing would change. I mean…how could it not? So I started avoiding him at the beginning of this year and hoped I could get through it without having to think about it. Which has proved pretty difficult."

Mum nodded and Hermione shifted her gaze back to her apple, taking another bite. She was glad this was going so well, but it was still hard to talk about Severus. And it was really weird talking about him to her mother, who, up until now, just assumed he was a very intelligent teacher, and that's why her very intelligent daughter liked him so much. Which was partly true, but still. She liked him a _bit_ differently than her parents thought she did.

"You know, when I was in secondary school," her mum said, unexpectedly, "my best friend Tracy and I got into a horrible fight."

"You and Aunt Tracy?!"

Hermione was stunned. She'd only ever seen her honorary aunt and her mother get along. In fact, not a week went by without one of them calling the other.

Mum nodded, as though expecting this reaction. "Yes, indeed. It was a very silly little thing that was blown way out of proportion. I borrowed her hairbrush and forgot to return it to her. By the time she brought it up, I'd lost it. Well, she got very upset with me."

Hermione nodded when her mum glanced at her to see if she was following. She didn't know where her mother was going with this, but it was fascinating so far.

"So, in retaliation after our big fight, she told the entire school that I had a crush on this boy," Mum continued, eliciting a gasp from Hermione.

"That seems pretty harsh for losing a hairbrush," she observed, astonished.

"That's what I thought as well," she replied, shaking her head in amusement.

"So did you actually like him?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, I did. In fact, I liked him so much that as _soon_ as someone told me he knew about it, do you know what I did?" her mum inquired, pausing and leaving her caught up in the suspense.

Hermione shook her head rapidly. "No, what?"

"I avoided him like the plague." Mum smiled wryly. "Every class I had with him, I spent in the lav. I even took my lunch in an obliging teacher's room, just so I wouldn't have to see him. And do you know what happened?"

Again, Hermione shook her head, at a loss. She had a feeling there was going to be some sort of moral to the story her mum was trying to get across. But she was too enthralled to care at the moment.

"You ended up failing all your classes?" she guessed.

Her mum chuckled. "No, but I came close. He ended up going out with someone else."

Hermione suddenly felt horrible for her mother.

She frowned and asked glumly, "He did?"

"Yes, he did. I later found out that he liked me back, and even tried to ask me out once," Mum continued, sighing with a sentimental smile. "According to Tracy, that is."

"So what happened after that?" she prompted, hoping there was a happy ending somewhere in here.

"I finally found Tracy's hairbrush and returned it to her," she added, chuckling at Hermione's disappointed expression. "And a few years later, I met a wonderful man and had a beautiful baby girl we named Hermione, who grew up to be a very talented witch." She smiled.

Hermione's head drooped. "So that's it? You never saw him again? I mean, not that I'm not happy you fell in love with Dad and everything, but…I don't just like Severus. I love him. I love him like you love Dad."

Mum reached across the island and cupped her daughter's cheek comfortingly when she looked away, embarrassed.

"I don't doubt it, honey," her mother said comfortingly. "But what I'm trying to tell you isn't that you have to try to move on. What I'm trying to tell you is that avoiding him isn't going to get you anywhere."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know. Right now I just wish…I wish I'd never found out I was a witch. Or been one. Then I never would've met Severus or Asher, or found out about Death Eaters and Voldemort and all that. Everything would just be normal, and I wouldn't have to work so hard just to avoid someone who's going to reject me anyway."

Her mum took a breath, frowning sadly at her. Hermione, feeling more depressed now than she had all year, took her half-eaten apple and stood.

"I'm going back to bed," she said miserably.

"Hermione," her mum called, but she was already out of the kitchen.

* * *

On Boxing Day, Hermione's parents drove her to the Burrow so she could spend a few days with her friends and give them the presents she'd ordered earlier that week. She could've Apparated or Flooed or something, but since the neighbors had probably seen her arrive by car, they might get a little suspicious if she just disappeared. When they finally arrived, Dad took Hermione's bag out of the trunk and Mr. Weasley, who'd been outside, hurried over and took Crookshanks. He immediately struck up a conversation with her dad.

Hermione could hear the squeals and shouting from outside the crooked house. She forced herself out of the car and stood next to her mother, wishing she could be in a good mood for her friends.

"Before we go in, I wanted to give you something," her mum said suddenly, interrupting her train of thought.

Hermione watched her interestedly as she leaned back into the car, pulling out a simple brown package tied with a red ribbon. Mum offered it to her with both hands and Hermione eyed the box-shaped package.

"Mum, Christmas is over, you know," she protested uncertainly.

"I know," she said firmly. "I purposely didn't give it to you yesterday, because I knew you'd take it as a Christmas gift, and that's not what it is."

Hermione gave her a puzzled look. "It isn't?"

"No. It's a reminder," her mum said mysteriously. "You are exactly who you should be. Your father and I couldn't be prouder of you."

Hermione felt a little blush coming on, but she took the package and fiddled with the ribbon. Her mum kissed her cheek and gestured for her to go ahead and open it. She did so, being cautious not to rip anything, and when the periwinkle box with the dark blue flower designs on it came into view, she stared at her mother, mouth wide open.

"Oh…Mum, I-I can't take th—"

"You can and you will," her mum cut in, smiling. "I always intended on giving it to you, but when it broke, well…. I suppose it was…magic that you can make it play again." She winked.

Hermione was about to further protest as she held the broken music box from years ago to her chest, but her friends burst from the Burrow in a giant group. They came thundering up to the car and all bounded around her: Harry, Ginny, Ron, and even Fred and George. Harry crushed her in a huge hug and Fred and George mussed up her hair, while Ginny pestered her with questions about how her holiday was going and Ron pestered her with questions about that there box containing chocolate.

She was swept away in the current of her friends, but she kept the music box tucked close to her side. What a reminder it was. Every time she glanced down at it or brushed her skin against the soft cushion of the top, a new memory floated to her consciousness. Her first act of magic.

While she answered her friends and asked questions of her own, Hermione remembered what had happened vividly. It was a warm summer day, and she was in her mother's room, trying in vain to brush out her bushy hair and make it smooth and flat. She thought that if perhaps she used her mother's brush, it would work. Then she spied the beloved music box, sitting abandoned on the back of the dresser. Her mum had told her how her mother had given it to her, and how it used to play the most beautiful music.

Hermione was curious about how pretty the music really was. She wanted to hear it and experience it just like Mum had. So she reached out and opened the lid. Up sprang the figure of a periwinkle-clad ballerina, but it didn't move. Hermione twisted the crank to make the music play, but nothing happened. Sadly, she brushed her fingers against the ballerina. And suddenly, it began to twirl. The music began to play quite gorgeously.

She heard a gasp from behind her and her mother rushed in, asking how she fixed it. Hermione was so startled she broke contact with the box, and it abruptly stopped playing. Mum's happiness deflated, replaced by confusion. She asked Hermione to touch it again, so she did, and it started playing again. Her mum was so happy she cried.

* * *

Harry waited until Hermione was alone in the living room to talk to her. First, everyone had been so excited to see her that they didn't leave her alone for one minute. Ginny was attached to her side even after that, when Mrs. Weasley was stuffing food down Hermione's throat with the excuse that she was too skinny. Which, really, she'd hardly eaten this year, so Harry could see where Mrs. Weasley was coming from with that.

Besides, it was kind of fun to see the woman stuff food in someone _else's_ mouth. Ginny was still plastered to Hermione, even when she finished eating. Harry knew why, but he wasn't sure if Hermione would believe Ginny either. He half-hoped so, just so Ginny wouldn't feel too alone. At long last, Mrs. Weasley asked Ginny to help her cook. So Harry launched himself on her immediately after Ginny disappeared from the room.

"Long time, no see," he said, plopping himself onto the couch next to her.

Hermione swallowed the biscuit she'd been idly chewing on and nodded, taking another bite.

"Hermione…are you sure you're not taking too much on yourself?" Harry ventured, seeing that she wasn't in the mood to chat.

She looked at him, seeming alarmed. "What do you mean? I'm fine, Harry."

"You look beat," he said gently.

"I'm just a little tired," Hermione said harshly, frowning at her lap now.

"You're more than tired. Hermione, you slept all the way home, and then you slept until two in the afternoon. I heard your mum tell Mrs. Weasley," he replied, shaking his head. "You're doing too much. Or is it not the work that's getting to you?"

She glanced at him. "Nothing's getting to me."

"You're thinking about him, aren't you? What he's going to say at the end of the year?" Harry pressed, watching her closely. "Hermione, you can't let—"

"I'm fine, Harry." Her voice cracked, though. "Professor Snape and I have maintained a completely professional relationship, and it's fine. I'm fine with that."

"Since when don't you call him Severus around me?"

"I never should have."

"Hermione, please. Don't do what I did—I was so stupid not to confide in you when you wanted me to. Don't pull away from me, all right? Tell me what's going on. Let me help," he said persuasively, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

"There's nothing to help with. I'm doing fine," she said firmly.

"Right. And that's why you've taken more on yourself than you need to. That's why you've run yourself ragged trying not to think about him." Harry paused when he saw her flinch, and he softened. "You can't let him, or what he thinks, or what he's going to say, run you. I know it hurts to think about him, but you have to let yourself. You can't keep working like this, taking on more than any human being should, even an amazing witch like yourself."

Hermione's mouth curved a little and Harry pulled her back against him, giving her shoulders a squeeze. She tugged the blue box she'd been holding since she arrived to her chest and rested her head on his shoulder, sighing lightly. He kissed the top of her head, gently.

"You know what Luna would say," he said teasingly. "'The killer doolfangs will get to you.'"

Hermione laughed and Harry grinned, rubbing her arm. Ron plopped on the other end of the couch with an entire plate of biscuits.

"What's it getting all serious in here for? It is Christmas biscuit time, people!" he announced, grinning at them.

"Got anything chocolate?" Hermione asked, smiling a little.

"Ginny's ruddy owl got to the chocolate chunk batch, but I _do_ have coconut flavored," Ron replied, lifting up a sparkling biscuit.

Hermione and Harry both made moues of disgust and Ron shrugged, stuffing two biscuits in his mouth.

"Suit yourselves."

* * *

Shortly after dinner, Ginny pulled Hermione aside at last. The girl had become increasingly fidgety throughout the day, and she'd hardly left her side. Hermione, at first, thought it was out of desperation to have female companionship. But it turned out that both Lavender and Luna had been to the Burrow before Hermione, each for a day or two. And when she realized that Ginny's anxiety was _increasing_, she figured it had to be something else.

Especially after a cryptic comment from Harry when she'd been snuggling with him earlier. She actually already felt a little better, just knowing that he and her mum had defeated her. There was no arguing their point—she really couldn't work herself to death and avoid Severus just because she didn't know what he was going to say. And Hermione had never been one to argue with logic. So, she was going to make an effort the opposite way now, and she started with taking a nap on Harry.

Presently, Hermione stifled a yawn and watched Ginny pace back and forth, petting Owen once in a while when she passed him where he perched. As usual, Ginny had to get up the courage to say what she actually wanted to say, so Hermione waited as patiently as possible. She was already feeling tired again. Working that hard really _wasn't_ a good idea.

"Okay, so, you know how Draco and I have been owling each other back and forth?" Ginny asked fretfully.

Hermione nodded. Ginny had mentioned something about it in the letter she sent her earlier in the week.

"Well, a couple days ago, he stopped," she said at last, frowning deeply.

Hermione stared at her. "Uh huh?" she prompted, when the girl didn't say anything.

"He stopped on Christmas Eve. It's been three days, and no word," Ginny added emphatically.

Hermione felt like she was missing something.

"He was writing me every day! Sometimes twice a day! Why would he just stop?" Ginny said pointedly.

"Perhaps with the holidays…."

"He promised he would write me all the days," she countered. "And here? Does this sound like someone who's going to randomly stop writing you?"

Hermione grabbed the letter Ginny stuffed in her face and scanned the lines. She skipped the stuff about his holiday, since that was probably personal, and then read his last line, which said, "_I can't wait to see you again!_" Well, she had to say no. That really didn't sound like someone who would randomly stop writing. She folded the letter and handed it back.

"So…have you tried writing him?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Every day! But nothing!" Ginny moaned, plopping on the end of the bed.

Hermione took a breath, letting her mind get back into working mode for a moment. That letter didn't indicate a lack of interest—that was for sure. And she had seen Ginny and Draco be extremely sweet, almost intimate, together. Draco wouldn't have bought her an expensive owl, nor would he have been so excited about her response to it, if he didn't really care about her. Besides, he was even treating Hermione civilly now, if not nicely. Ginny was right—Draco wouldn't just drop out of her life without notice. He had changed.

The problem was what to do about this lack of response. Hermione immediately thought to write to Severus and see what he thought. She shoved that aside automatically. Even if she wasn't going to outright avoid him anymore, it wasn't acceptable to go running to him whenever a problem arose. No matter how tempting it was. She forced her mind back to the issue at hand.

Truly, the most logical conclusion was that he simply wasn't replying. Unless you took into account how different he was now. Perhaps someone should check and see if he was all right. If he was sick, he might not be _able_ to reply. Then again, maybe Ginny had already thought of that.

"Have you asked anyone to go check on him?" she prompted, glancing back at the sorrowful redhead.

She propped herself on her elbows. "I've asked everyone what they think. They all think he just dropped out of my life without a word. They _pity_ me for thinking he'd do anything else." She scowled.

Hermione frowned. "Well…I'll try to appeal to them. Maybe you're too subjective for them to believe you. They might be more apt to listen if an objective party asks."

Hermione got a nose full of Ginny hair as the girl lunged on her, squeezing her in a tight hug.

"Thank you so, so much," she said happily. "I knew I could count on you."

She smiled and patted her. "Glad to be of help. But…I'll be more help if I can breathe," she reminded her hoarsely.

Ginny immediately released her and gave a sheepish grin.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Perhaps we ought to try and get some rest now?" Hermione suggested.

Ginny nodded and the two snuggled into their sleeping bags. Hermione, for one, couldn't have been stopped from falling asleep if someone blew a foghorn in her ear.

* * *

"But you don't understand! He really has changed!" Hermione exclaimed at the fifth Order member she'd approached that day.

She was getting extremely sick of making the same arguments, only to be brushed aside each and every time. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley listened, all right, but they were really pitying about the whole thing, which she hated. Remus was the same way, while Tonks pityingly tried to make her see that boys would be boys. Now Kingsley was waving her off, seeming irritated that she would bother him. Even though he was at the Weasley's afternoon tea party, not attending to some extremely important Auror business.

"He's a Slytherin," Kingsley said for what felt like the fiftieth time.

And that wasn't counting all the other people who had said it. Hermione bristled immediately, knowing inwardly that she didn't need to get _quite_ that upset. But frankly, she was sick of prejudice toward Slytherins. For obvious reasons.

"_Just_ because he's a Slytherin doesn't mean he's going to randomly and _cruelly_ drop out of Ginny's life without a single word," she said tightly, glowering up at the much taller man and clenching her fists. "A Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor can do bad things _just_ as easily as a Slytherin can!"

Kingsley rolled his eyes and sipped his tea. She promptly let out a cry of frustration.

"I don't understand you people!" Hermione snapped.

Then she spun on her heel and stormed off to the tea table, where Ron and Harry were silently laughing at her. She'd even tried appealing to the younger people in the group, but all of them were just as deaf to her arguments as the adults. Although, some of them weren't so deaf. Instead, they were mocking.

Hermione took a long drink of tea to calm her nerves and tried to ignore Harry and Ron when they came over to stand next to her.

"What did we tell you?" Ron said candidly. "Nobody's going to buy it."

She glared at him. "I don't see why not. It's not like _I'm_ in love with him. I'm barely even his friend."

"Yeah, but, first of all, everyone knows you're a loyal friend," Harry said reasonably. "Which means that you're not as objective as you think."

"And secondly, Draco Malfoy is a foul git, and everybody knows it," Ron added, shaking his head. "'Cept you and my mad sister."

"No, _Lucius_ Malfoy is a foul git, and everyone knows it," Hermione corrected, shaking her head. "Draco might have been following in his footprints, but you can't deny, at the very least, that he's become very attached to Ginny."

"Or attached to getting a good shag," Harry countered nonchalantly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And do you _really_ think that he would dedicate over five months of his life and a tawny owl to getting that shag?"

Harry shifted, avoiding her eyes. "Maybe he…heard that Ginny was really good."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure the gossip of Hogwarts is just the rumor mill Draco Malfoy uses to find out who's a good lay and who isn't," Hermione said sardonically. "After all, it was correct when everyone thought you had a tattoo on your right shoulder blade. Oh…that's right. That wasn't true, either."

"He's a Slytherin!" Ron blurted. Hermione considered hitting him. "This was probably just some really long plot to hurt Ginny."

"Really? And what has Ginny done to Draco, again?" she asked, mock-considering. "Oh, _unless_ it's not over. Maybe Ginny is just a pawn in his elaborate scheme to eventually publicly humiliate Harry." They looked like they were about to say something. "Oh! _Or_ to become Headmaster of Hogwarts. Or, even better, the Minister of Magic! You know what? Why not just come out with it? Draco's plot was to romance Ginny until he got her to the point where dropping out of her life would hurt her, and that is just the first step in his plot to take over _the world_."

Hermione nodded sagely, then smirked at them when she'd finished her little spiel. Ron was glaring at her, but Harry looked half-amused.

"Honestly, not every move a Slytherin makes has something to do with some evil plot," she concluded, shaking her head and sipping her tea.

"Still. He's Malfoy," Harry said with a shrug. "The ferret-face. This is what he does."

Hermione could take it no longer.

She whirled on him and bellowed, not caring who heard, "You've made allowances for me and the man _I_ love, so why can't you do that for Ginny? And you, Ronald! She's your _sister_! Why don't you try acting like a brother?!"

With that, she plopped down her tea and strode from the room, intent on taking a nice nap to make up for all the energy that little outburst took.

* * *

Sadly, instead of sleeping, Hermione just ended up lying on the bed with Crookshanks, pondering what to do about this situation with Draco. It wasn't like she could go up to the Malfoys herself and ask how things were going. That would be a little odd. Come to think of it, it would be weird for any of the people she'd approached to do it. Order members weren't exactly on friendly terms with ex-Death Eaters, after all.

Perhaps someone else would be better. Her parents were definitely a no. They didn't know anything about wizard decorum, let alone how to act around the Malfoys. Besides, she'd never ask them to deal with anything like this. She couldn't go to the Ministry, obviously. First of all, she didn't actually have any proof that anything happened to Draco. Secondly, from Kingsley and Tonks' reaction to her pleas, she had a feeling none of the Aurors were very Slytherin or Malfoy-friendly.

Not that Hermione could blame any of these people for disliking _Malfoy_. But Draco was only his son, not him. And Ginny really had brought about a change in him.

Hermione sighed, shifting her head to stare at the music box, where she left it on the nightstand. There was really only one person who could go to the Malfoys without it seeming too odd.

Since she wasn't really going to get any restful sleep after that realization and the anticipation that came with it, Hermione went back downstairs to find that Mrs. Weasley was the only company she could take. Even if the woman was determined to get her fat by the end of her stay, at least she wasn't giving her "pity" looks. Poor Ginny was getting the same treatment, but she'd gone outside to fly on her broomstick, Owen alongside her, a while back.

* * *

After the guests left and Ginny came back in, Hermione pulled her aside while the rest of the family sat down for dinner. She could see Harry and Ron watching them out of the corner of her eye, so she gripped her wand and nonverbally cast a Silencing Charm. With the way they were acting, they had absolutely no right to know what she was up to. Besides, she didn't need anyone finding out where she'd gone. She was determined to be strong and do this alone.

"Look, I tried everything I could, but no one will listen to me either," Hermione informed Ginny, who immediately sagged.

"I kind of figured," she replied, sighing. "Listen, thanks for trying anyway. I guess I'll just see him when the holidays end."

And she went to sit back down, but Hermione caught her arm.

"I'm not done trying," she said firmly, and Ginny shot her a puzzled look. "I'm going to try to take care of everything, okay? With a little help."

"Who are you going to get to help you?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Just trust me."

She ended the Silencing Charm and pulled on her coat, gesturing for Ginny to go sit down. She opened her mouth to question her further, but Hermione shot her a look and she silenced herself. As expected, Mrs. Weasley noticed Hermione's actions and immediately went on alert.

"And where do you think you're going, young lady?" she asked, hands on her hips.

Hermione smiled, keeping her cool. "I'm going to run to Hogsmeade for a few last-minute gifts."

"That's an awfully long way to run, Granger," Fred, or possibly George, commented.

"I'll Apparate, thank you very much," she replied haughtily. "Since we're giving out gifts tomorrow morning, I thought I would just head there and be back as soon as possible."

Mrs. Weasley hesitated, but Mr. Weasley didn't think twice.

"That's fine, Hermione," he said kindly. "Thanks for letting us know."

She smiled again. "You don't have to wait for me for dinner. I'll be back later."

Hermione gave Ginny an encouraging look and, with a pounding heart, strode into the living room and Apparated.

* * *

Severus shoved the plate the house-elf had brought him aside and focused on grading the Advanced Potions essays from his seventh years. At least when they were older, there were fewer grammar mistakes. That was the best he could say about those papers.

Dumbledore had begged him to come to dinner tonight, because apparently there was going to be yet another party in celebration of Christmas (didn't they celebrate it enough on the one day?). He really preferred not having to see his colleagues plastered and poorly singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs. Especially Sinistra.

He suppressed a shudder. He and Minerva had had enough fun quietly mocking their fellow professors at the last three parties. They'd both chosen solitude in their quarters for tonight. Peace and quiet at long last.

There was a quiet knock at the door. Severus huffed. Well, at least _relative_ peace and quiet.

"Enter," he called irritably.

He heard the door creak open, but kept his eyes on his papers, assuming it was just Dumbledore coming to make one last effort to make him come join the gaiety.

"Professor?" a quiet voice prompted.

Severus' gaze shot to her immediately, scarcely daring to hope she was truly there. Yet there Hermione stood, gazing at him with both apprehension and what he could only call entrancement. She shut the door carefully behind her and took a couple of hesitant steps forward, wringing her hands.

Severus stared at her and slowly made his way to his feet, taking in everything from the brand new sneakers on her feet to the snow-littered curls on the top of her head. She looked less exhausted, as though the holidays had done her some good, but there were still circles under her eyes. He watched as she tried to speak several times, but nothing came out.

It only occurred to him then that she had probably come here for a reason. He thought to wonder what it was, but then realized that, frankly, he didn't care. She was here.

But, just to make her a little more comfortable, he supposed it couldn't hurt to ask. Besides, it looked like something was troubling her. And he certainly didn't want to encourage her recent behavior in actively avoiding him and pretending he was just as important to her as Filch.

"What is it?" he asked, and his voice sounded husky, even to him.

Hermione met his eyes, almost reluctantly. Severus waited, willing her to speak again.

"I need your help," she said softly.


	13. Seventh Year: Part Five

**Disclaimer:** I still got nothin'.

**A/N:** I'm so glad everyone is enjoying. I've been enjoying your reviews very much, so thank you and keep 'em coming.

* * *

Hermione scolded herself several times over for ever thinking it was a good idea to avoid Severus or not think about him. Because he looked absolutely heavenly. It didn't even hit her full power, how much she'd missed him, until he spoke in his deep, sultry voice. Her knees shook and almost gave, but she managed to keep herself under control. She didn't think he would appreciate it if she leapt over the desk and jumped him.

He was still staring at her, now with his eyebrow characteristically arched. He'd been staring at her since she came in, and, well…she was just glad her cheeks were already rosy from the cold. She knew he expected her to say more, but she really couldn't remember what she came here for anymore. Something about Ginny…oh!

"You see, I have a problem," she said lamely, trying to master her pitch. "Well, really, Ginny has a problem. Or, actually, if we're right and something _is_ wrong, then it's really Draco's problem. But since Draco is Ginny's boyfriend, or at least I assume he is since I've seen them kiss, even though they haven't really announced it or anything, it's sort of Ginny's problem, too. And since Ginny is my best girl friend, it's sort of my problem and I really don't mean to make it yours, but I didn't know where else to turn since no one will believe me or Ginny that Draco wouldn't just—"

"Hold on," Severus cut in, holding up a hand, and she choked on whatever she'd been about to say. "Relax, and tell me what the problem is—from the beginning."

Hermione wrung her freezing, gloveless hands and nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to relax herself as he instructed. Severus didn't seem to feel like waiting, because he'd turned around. She cleared her throat and decided to try anyway. Severus was Head of Draco's House. Perhaps that would make him want to help. She hoped.

"Well, I went to the Burrow yesterday and Ginny told me that she hadn't received a letter from Draco in three days," she began, sighing. "Even though he'd been—oh. Thanks."

She took the Steaming Rum he'd handed her, gratefully wrapping her cold hands around the warm cup. Severus watched her intently, so she took a sip. He nodded, almost as if in approval, and folded his arms as he leaned back against his desk.

She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, Draco had been writing her every day since the holiday started, sometimes twice a day. Now it's been four days and he hasn't written her, even though she's sent a letter every day to ask if something's wrong. So…we're just concerned that something's wrong and we were hoping someone could go check on him. Just to see if he's okay."

Severus nodded again. He was scowling, but it looked like he was thinking, not like he was upset. Hermione shifted uncomfortably and took another sip of the rum, then busied herself with watching the steam curl up from it in spirals. Kind of like Amortentia. She swallowed and tried to ignore the urge to step closer.

Being alone with him, with all his attention on her, was so intoxicating. Not to mention dangerous. Hermione glanced up at him surreptitiously and wondered if he was feeling uncomfortable, too. He probably was, since she'd made it sound like he was the first person she'd run to with this problem. Which, of course, he would've been if she hadn't thought that would be inappropriate. She took a breath.

"I tried—and Ginny did, too—talking to some Order members and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but they wouldn't believe us that he wouldn't do this," she ventured, watching his eyes snap to hers and suppressing an elated grin. "He really has changed, though."

Severus took a breath, looking displeased. "Draco's father has taught him how to be cruel. It's possible that his relationship with Miss Weasley was merely a ploy to attain power over her."

"But why would he spend five months—maybe more—romancing her, only to drop her now without a word?" Hermione protested, almost desperately. He _had_ to believe her. "And why would he waste money on her, buying her an owl? It doesn't make any sense. And if he was trying to gain some sort of information to blackmail her with, wouldn't he still be talking to her, trying to use it?"

"I can see your point," he allowed, dipping his head. "However, the Malfoys are not at a loss for money. An owl can be bought with their loose change. And the Malfoys are nothing if not patient when it comes to achieving their goals."

"But his father wouldn't give him the money to buy her an eagle owl," she said thoughtfully. "In fact, he's been having trouble with his father ever since he started this friendship with Ginny."

"Boys in pursuit of…certain pleasures," he said awkwardly, even shifting a little, "are liable to say many things."

Hermione blushed, but she wasn't deterred.

"He also said in his last letter that he couldn't wait to see her again," she confided, hoping this would change his mind, as it had hers. "Does that sound like somebody who's about to stop responding?"

Severus gazed at her for a long moment. She shifted in place, avoiding his eyes. What was he thinking?

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No, it does not. However, there is still doubt as to his sincerity in courting Miss Weasley."

Hermione sighed, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. Well, at least he wasn't saying it was because he was a Slytherin. Of course, Severus was a Slytherin himself, so it made a lot of sense that he wouldn't insult Slytherins…. How could she possibly convince him to check on Draco? She'd hate to come back to Ginny and tell her it was false hope.

And…she sort of wanted an excuse to see Severus again soon. She blushed at the realization, ducking her head when she spied Severus giving her a curious look.

"Listen…I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important," Hermione pleaded quietly, uncertainly meeting his eyes again. "If I'm wrong, so be it. But I'd rather take that chance than ignore it and leave Ginny distraught and Draco possibly suffering."

She held his gaze for a long time as he stared back at her, impassive. He didn't say a word, but his intense focus on her was starting to make her desirous feelings a bit difficult to ignore. She sighed and strode over to him, setting the Steaming Rum down next to him on the desk. She pulled back and her breath hitched when she realized how close he was. _For the love of all things pure and holy, why did you _do_ that?_ Hermione admonished, panicking.

Severus didn't move and she forced her eyes to his, not allowing them to creep lower. She felt her tongue start to swipe across her lower lip and bit down on it—hard. Her mouth was so dry and her knees were starting to shake again. _Speak! He's going to think you're an imbecile!_ she ordered sharply.

"Eh…thanks for listening…anyway," she managed, taking baby steps in backing away from him.

At long last, Hermione got far enough away that she was able to turn around and break their eye contact. Even though she was wearing a T-shirt, a sweater, and a winter coat, she still felt the urge to cross her arms across her chest. Before she made it to the door, he spoke.

"Why did you go to the Order members at all?" Severus inquired, sounding a bit…well, perturbed.

She turned around, shrugging. "I…thought they might be of help."

"Still, it would seem a bit odd if Moody went up to the door of the Malfoy mansion inquiring as to how their son is doing. Would it not?" he retorted, arching that brow again.

He straightened and crossed the distance between them. Hermione shifted.

"I will see about Draco's well-being tomorrow," Severus said firmly, towering over her. "You will receive word from me by tomorrow evening."

She almost grinned. "Thank you so much."

He dipped his head again and she fidgeted with her sleeves. Her arms had almost sprung up to wrap him in a hug, but she kept herself under control. Why did he have to stand so close, anyway? She could probably smell him if she took another little step forward. And she could feel the heat of their bodies starting to mix. It was definitely time to go.

Hermione stumbled backward and fumbled for the door knob.

"Eh…thanks…I-I'll look forward to your letter tomorrow," she stammered, almost crying out in triumph when her hand finally found the metal handle.

Severus was still watching her when she slammed the door shut behind her.

* * *

When she arrived back at the Weasleys, they were all engaging in a game of Exploding Snap and eating leftover biscuits from the batch Mrs. Weasley made the day before. Ginny almost immediately made to stand and start grilling Hermione when she came in, but it was her turn to play, so she had to wait. Mrs. Weasley stuffed more food down Hermione's throat, despite her protests that she'd already eaten.

Which she had—she went to the Three Broomsticks after her conversation with Severus and had her meal, along with a butterbeer to mellow her out a bit. She even picked up a few things for her friends in the village. Nothing big, but it still made her earlier story plausible.

Hermione engaged in a couple games herself, but eventually headed upstairs with Crookshanks and turned in for the night. By the time Ginny arrived, she was fast asleep.

The next morning, Hermione awoke before Ginny and headed on down to start helping Mrs. Weasley with breakfast. It wasn't long before everyone else came thundering down, eager for bacon, eggs, and more presents from one another. By the time they finished present-giving, it was lunchtime, and then the boys wanted to play some three-on-three Quidditch.

Hermione managed to get out of it by flourishing all her new books at them and giving a little grin. They rolled their eyes and went outside to split up the teams unevenly. Either that or they recruited Mr. Weasley. She almost snorted at the image of him straddling a broomstick, trying to keep up with his four overly enthusiastic children and Harry, who might as well have been his eighth child anyway.

Her books managed to distract her from the ever-growing anxiousness she felt as it drew near the evening and the arrival of Severus' letter. Crookshanks also provided a welcome distraction as he lay across her stomach, as though it were his duty, and nuzzled her hands persuasively, until she had no choice but to pet him and read simultaneously.

Dinnertime also interrupted Ginny's curiosity about how Hermione's little visit had gone. She was squirming in her chair the entire time, clearly itching to yank Hermione into the other room and interrogate her. Hermione kept herself composed, since Harry and Ron were acting even more suspicious tonight, seeing Ginny's odd behavior.

Almost everyone had finished eating, and Ron and Harry were getting started on the dishes, when an owl flew through the window, nearly taking off Ron's ear. It landed carefully in front of Hermione and offered its leg to her. She quickly took the letter off, thanked and stroked the bird, and was about to see if Harry had any leftover treats she could give it when it took off.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked interestedly, peering at the envelope in her hands.

Hermione shrugged. "Don't know."

Rather than stick around the kitchen where any number of Weasleys could peer over her shoulder, Hermione excused herself and went for the living room again, breaking the seal as she did so. There was only one line: "_Meet me in my office as soon as this is received. –S._" She frowned, wondering what that meant.

Had he found Draco alive and well and wanted to yell at her for troubling him with it? Was it bad news and he wanted to tell her in person? Hermione shook her head of these thoughts and placed the note back in the envelope, about to make another excuse to the family and Floo to his office.

"What's going on?"

Hermione whipped around and sighed when she saw it was only Ginny, wringing her hands anxiously.

"I've wanted to ask all day," Ginny told her, frowning. "What's happening?"

Hermione shook her head and said truthfully, "I don't know yet. I'm about to go find out, though. Will you cover for me with everyone?"

She hesitated. "Where are you going?"

"That's not impor—"

"Look, I know you like to keep your secrets, and I respect that now," Ginny cut in, sounding simultaneously guilty and confident. "But if I don't know where you are, and something bad happens, how will we find you?"

Well. That was a little hard to argue with, although Hermione was certain she faced no true danger in going to Severus' office. Still, Ginny was nervous enough about all of this Draco business without worrying about Hermione. She sighed, giving in. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"I'll be at Hogwarts," she admitted, frowning. "But don't tell anyone, and only come after me if it's been more than two hours."

Ginny gasped. "Two—"

"Yes, two hours. I don't know what I'll find when I get there," she said reasonably. "It could take five minutes, it could take longer. I honestly don't know."

"Okay, well…who's helping—" she stopped herself and met Hermione's eyes. "I trust you."

Hermione smiled warmly, slipped the envelope in her pocket, and wrapped Ginny in a quick hug, patting her back.

"I'll be back," she assured her, then gestured for her to rejoin the family.

As soon as the girl was out of view, Hermione grabbed a bit of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace, saying clearly, "Professor Snape's office." The Floo jerked and spun her until she appeared in the dim office. She stepped out immediately, using a quick Cleansing Charm to vanish the soot so he wouldn't have to clean it up.

A glance around ascertained that Severus was waiting at his desk, currently setting down his quill. Hermione almost blushed when she saw him there, eyeing her with his brow arched high. And there was Dobby, setting Severus' tea tray down.

"Harry Potter's friend!" Dobby exclaimed excitedly, eliciting a roll of the eyes from Severus.

Hermione smiled. "Hello, Dobby. How are the holidays treating you? Are you enjoying your new socks?"

"Dobby has enjoyed himself greatly," he replied, grinning up at her. "Dobby is very grateful to the Missy."

She glanced uncomfortably at Severus, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You're very welcome," she said, directing her attention back to the elf. "If you need me to knit any other clothing for you, don't hesitate to ask. I've rather missed knitting since I gave up on S.P.E.W."

"The Missy is very kind. Dobby has made presents for Harry Potter and his friends," Dobby continued happily. "But Dobby will give them to Harry Potter and his friends when they are all here."

She smiled indulgently at his secretive tone. "I'm looking forward to that, then."

Dobby glanced at Severus when he saw Hermione look that way again. He bowed to both of them three times each.

"Dobby must go now. Dobby has other tea requests," he explained. "Good night to the Missy and to Professor Dumbledore's young friend."

Then he was gone and Hermione turned her full attention to Severus, who gazed at her impassively.

* * *

Minerva was in the midst of catching up on grading when Dobby appeared in her office, carrying her tea tray on his merry way. She planned on having a spot of tea before going down to the dungeons to warn Severus about Albus' plans for a New Year's party. She may not have been as cynical as Severus, but she still saw his point that having three parties in a row to celebrate Christmas was a little over the top.

Dobby was grinning at her.

"Where would Professor Dumbledore's friend like Dobby to set her tea?" he asked in that trademark high-pitched voice of the house-elves.

She gave a pinched smile. "Right here is fine, Dobby. Thank you."

She readjusted her spectacles and resumed grading, but Dobby was still talking. It wasn't that she didn't like house-elves, of course, but their voices and improper grammar did get to be a bit on the irritating side. She shook her head slightly when she realized she was starting to sound as irritable as Severus. Well, maybe not quite that bad.

"Dobby is sorry he did not get Professor Dumbledore's friend's tea to her sooner," he was saying as he settled the tray down carefully. "Dobby was talking to Harry Potter's friend."

Minerva frowned. Now that was an odd thing to say. Harry's friends, and Harry himself, weren't even at Hogwarts at the moment. They were all off enjoying their holidays. Hopefully not getting drunk, like many of Minerva's colleagues.

"I didn't think any of Harry's friends were still at Hogwarts," she commented, eyeing him carefully.

"Oh, Harry Potter's friend wasn't at Hogwarts before," Dobby said cheerfully. "The Missy came to Professor Dumbledore's young friend's office while Dobby was serving him tea."

Minerva's frown deepened in confusion. 'The Missy' could refer to any of Harry's female friends, and she wasn't sure who Albus' _young_ friend was. She supposed it could have been one of the professors.

"I'm sorry, which of Harry's friends came to whose office?" she asked, hoping he didn't bang his head against her desk or something.

Dobby hesitated. "Not the Wheezy. The other Harry Potter's best friend. She came to the Potion master's office."

Oh. Well, that changed things a bit. Obviously, 'Wheezy' referred to Weasley. And Harry Potter's other best friend could only be Hermione, and she had gone to…Severus' office? She couldn't imagine the girl going to Horace's. Minerva recalled well the brief laugh they'd had over their tea when they realized they both scorned Horace's teaching practices.

"Was she still there when you left?" Minerva asked curiously.

"Yes. Dobby saw her," he clarified, bobbing his head in what she could only assume was a nod.

"Thank you, Dobby," she said, making an effort to sound pleasant. "That'll be all."

He bowed and left, and Minerva pondered over this new information. So Hermione was visiting Severus now, was she? Perhaps there was another reason Severus was so eager to stay in his office, beyond his hatred of parties, then. She decided two cups of tea before she visited him would do.

* * *

Hermione cleared her throat, growing steadily more uncomfortable as the seconds went by.

"Sorry," she found herself saying, in a hurried voice. "Your message said to meet you here right away, so I just thought that Flooing would be the fastest and—"

"Your method of arrival doesn't concern me," Severus interrupted, waving a dismissive hand.

Hermione hesitated. He proceeded to stare at her—again. Which, in turn, made her blush and shift. What was that supposed to mean, anyway? Flooing into somebody's house was a little bit intrusive, or at least she thought so. She'd only used this method because, as his note had said, she was to meet him immediately after receiving his message. And he didn't care? He was such an enigma.

"So…wh-what did you ask me to meet you for?" she asked uncomfortably, pacing to his shelves and fiddling with the bindings of the books, just for something to do.

She heard his chair shift and glanced back to find that he'd stood up and was now walking toward her. She turned back to the books in front of her, focusing intently on the titles and trying not to blush.

"You mentioned yesterday evening that Draco has changed," Severus said quietly.

Hermione found herself jumping—she hadn't realized he'd been standing that close. She didn't dare turn around. Another close call like last time and she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop herself from snogging him into next month.

She nodded rapidly. "Yes, that's true."

There was a brief pause and Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart and slow her breathing. Even if she could keep her features as composed as his now, it was still difficult to control her other physical reactions. She was terrified he would see her breathing so quickly and draw the right conclusions.

"Lucius Malfoy," he hissed, "does not accept change easily. He is adaptable, once he has accepted it, but his views regarding his family are rather…inflexible." He paused. "If what you say is true, and he is truly attached to Miss Weasley, then he is associating with Gryffindors and Weasleys. And if he is treating particular friends of Miss Weasley in a friendly manner, he is also associating with Muggle-borns."

Hermione felt her back immediately stiffen. She hadn't really thought of how his friendship with _her_ would affect his relationship with his father. Malfoy's son fraternizing with Gryffindors, Muggle-borns, and Weasleys—that was like saying Slytherins, Death Eaters, and Voldemort to Harry. What did that mean for Draco? Would Malfoy disown him? Worse?

"What are you saying?" she managed to ask, forcing herself to turn and face him.

He met her gaze and didn't further the distance between them, like she'd half-expected him to. Instead, he merely continued.

"I did not see Draco when I visited the Malfoys early this afternoon," Severus explained evenly. "When I inquired after him, Lucius became extremely…formal. Draco's mother left the room, under the guise of making more tea. These reactions are reason enough to give rise to the belief that Draco is being punished somehow."

Hermione gaped. Draco was being punished for his associations? Or perhaps for making changes in his own beliefs…. She recalled well the cold look of anger Malfoy had worn the day Draco defended her with a sharp word, and the look of pure terror on Narcissa's. Maybe Draco had taken it a step too far for Malfoy to deal with.

Her stomach churned just thinking about all the things Malfoy could do to him. And would do, if his days as a Death Eater were any indication.

"How bad do you think—" she stopped when she got her answer.

The grim look he gave her was enough to give her stomach another lurch. Poor Draco.

"What can we do?" she asked desperately, searching Severus' face for assurance, confidence—anything, really.

Severus shook his head minutely. "Without evidence, we can do nothing."

"How can we get evidence if we can't even see him?" Hermione retorted, hating that a hopeless whine had entered her voice.

"Don't concern yourself with that—I'll deal with it," he said firmly.

She frowned a little. She didn't like the idea of him doing this all by himself, and just because she'd asked him to. She would feel awfully guilty if he got caught doing something and ended up in Azkaban _instead_ of Malfoy. Worse than guilty, actually. Besides, she was more than capable of handling herself and these types of situations. She'd at least proved that.

"How can I help?" she demanded, raising her chin confidently.

Severus' lips twitched. "You can help Miss Weasley. She may need your support if Draco's condition is as poor as we suspect."

Hermione automatically went to protest this. She had hoped he knew she was perfectly able to both support Ginny and help him in whatever he was going to do. But apparently he ranked her with the rest of the students. Still, she had to try. The words never left her lips, however, as Severus seemed to realize what she was going to say—almost before she did.

"It is not out of lack of faith in your abilities that I'm refusing your help," he told her, almost sternly. "My duties as a professor at this school, and therefore to Dumbledore, compel me to discourage your further involvement in this matter. And beyond that, your safety is a priority I must take into consideration."

Hermione found herself staring at him. How on _earth_ had he known what she was going to say? She checked to make sure that she was Occluding and found her defenses as strong as ever. This was eerily like her dreams, where he seemed to know what she was feeling at all times. Perhaps she'd been too quick in dismissing Divination and the knowledge Trelawney held. She started to panic at the thought of missing an academic opportunity, but a new thought hit her.

_Did he say '_we_'?! And he has faith in my abilities?! And he cares about my safety?!_ Well, the last part was probably just part of the 'duties' he'd just mentioned. But he'd said 'we.' Quite plainly. Of course, he'd said it before, but that was in reference to whether or not they'd be having Occlumency lessons and things like that. Nothing so intimate as sharing a view, or an idea. Was he actually admitting that they were working…together?

She managed to suppress a shudder and forced her eyes back into focus, glancing away. He'd probably be freaked out if she just kept staring at him like that, after all. Pretending she'd been deliberating his points, she huffed.

"All right," she said glumly, even though she felt like grinning. Another thought crept in at that moment, and she started. "If Mr. Malfoy is sent to prison for this, why couldn't he just pay his way out of it? After all, he performed a miracle when he was prosecuted for being a—" She cut herself off, avoiding his eyes.

_That would've been a bit rude_, she admonished herself. He probably thought she was insensitive on top of everything else now.

"A Death Eater," Severus said flatly.

Hermione nodded hesitantly and he promptly stalked away from her, as though he needed the distance. She cursed her big mouth over again.

"The Ministry is…touchy about this sort of thing nowadays," he continued, scowling at his boots. "Especially since Rufus Scrimgeour became the Minister." She went to nod again, but he went on, "Should the Ministry fail, I will take care of it, if need be."

Hermione decided it would be best not to press him on that point. She wished she could take back her thoughtless moment, but it was too late now. He was already upset with her. She supposed that meant it was time to leave. She stepped quietly to the fireplace and took a pinch of his Floo powder in her hand, but stopped there and glanced back at him. He was watching her again, still scowling.

"Please be careful," she heard herself blurt, and then she ducked into the fireplace and almost shouted, "The Burrow!"

* * *

Minerva knocked heavily on Severus' door and waited patiently for him to answer her. If Hermione was there, he would be reluctant to answer at all. So she decided to give him a little time. To her surprise, he answered immediately, in a most sour tone.

"Enter," Severus snapped.

Minerva pushed the door open and glanced around the room, but it was empty of anyone but Severus. He was currently dumping out his tea, which had probably gotten too cold while he was talking to Hermione, into a cauldron. Of course, he could've just used a heating spell if that were the case. But perhaps he intended to use it for potions purposes. That explanation didn't make much sense either, though, since he probably could've made it himself or asked the house-elves to cool it before they brought it. When she saw the bottle of Firewhisky waiting on his desk, she realized and sighed. Lovely.

"Hermione's gone already?" she queried as she shut the door.

Severus slammed the teapot down with undue force and glowered at her.

"I take it that overgrown dwarf has been using _Sonorous_," he spat.

Minerva frowned sternly. "Severus, you know he didn't mean any harm."

His response to that was to sit down and uncork the Firewhisky. Minerva sighed and strode over to his desk, placing her hands on her hips as she awaited a response to her original question. Severus poured the Firewhisky into a glass, though she didn't know why he bothered since he was probably going to down the whole thing anyway, and went to take a drink. He huffed when he noticed her staring and rolled his eyes.

"You haven't answered my question," she reminded him.

"Yes, Miss Granger has left," he said irritably. "A fact which I would have thought you could've ascertained for yourself, considering the lack of abundant hair in this room." He paused and, when she continued staring at him, added, "Don't worry yourself, Minerva. There have been no inappropriate exchanges. I am merely aiding her in a matter concerning Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy."

Minerva sat across from him and said smoothly, "I assumed you did not Imperius, torture, or murder Miss Granger."

"That was not what I meant," he hissed, glaring at her and taking a long drink.

"Then I'm not sure what you did mean," she replied calmly. "Since any other exchange you're referring to is no longer inappropriate, seeing as you are not her mentor any longer."

"I am still her professor," he retorted sharply.

"Technically, this is untrue," Minerva explained. "She is an apprentice—neither teacher nor student. She has masters, of course—Septima, Filius, and I—but you are not among them. Therefore, you are not her teacher, and so certain actions are not inappropriate. At least your attitude concerning this answers a question I'd been wondering about since your little spurt of jealousy."

Severus had tightened his grip on the Firewhisky. "And what was that?"

"Why you haven't taken full advantage of Hermione's new status," she said simply.

He glared at her and took another drink. Minerva sighed. This conversation was going _so_ well. She wondered if she should set Albus loose on Severus, then brushed the thought aside. She may have thought Severus was being stupid, but she wasn't going to be _cruel_ about it.

"As if the golden girl of Gryffindor would be with a Death Eater," he grumbled, shaking his head.

Minerva gasped. "You are _not_ a Death Eater."

Severus' head rolled back and he groaned, obviously irritated that she'd overheard him. Minerva ignored that in favor of wondering what made him say it. She hadn't known him to think much about his Death Eater days since Voldemort's fall, or at least he never said anything about it to her. What could've possibly brought on this fresh surge of self-loathing? She could hardly believe Hermione said anything, but….

"Did Hermione call you that?" she pressed carefully.

Severus glowered at her. "No. She…reminded me," he said evasively, avoiding her eyes.

"How?"

"Is it not enough that I've remembered my place?" he snarled, throwing his head back for another drink.

"Severus, your place is not here, drowning yourself in alcohol," she said firmly. "You are an Order member and a good man. And Hermione loves you as you are."

His gaze shot to hers: his version of surprise. Minerva smirked.

"I don't think Hermione was in full possession of her faculties when she left my classroom the week before the train left," she explained, almost superiorly. "I believe her exact words were: 'I'll miss you most, after Professor Snape, of course. He's horribly wonderful.'" She almost grinned.

Severus' glare had returned full force. "I would give a student detention with Filch for such an obvious lie, Minerva."

She rolled her eyes and stood. "There's no talking to you in this mood. However, I recommend you consider halting the self-flagellation. You're not a house-elf; it doesn't sit well with you," she said sternly. "And just so you know, Albus has planned another party."

Before he could respond, Minerva whipped around and exited his office. Maybe she should set Hermione loose on him instead. She wouldn't be putting up with that self-deprecating sot's attitude. Minerva smiled in amusement.

* * *

Upon returning to the Burrow, Hermione found a three-on-three Quidditch game going on in the backyard, with poor Mrs. Weasley acting as the referee. Apparently Ginny had been quite persuasive in convincing everyone to vacate the house. Hermione had to applaud Ginny for her quick thinking; it would've been awfully hard to cover for her if they were all in the house and Hermione obviously wasn't. Instead, Ginny had claimed Hermione would want to read.

Ron crashed into George when he saw Hermione come out. Harry saw her at the exact same moment and shouted, "She emerges!" which startled Ron so badly he lost his concentration and…well, there was a lot of _Reparo_ going on after that.

Ginny asked her how it went while the boys were taking care of that mess and Hermione explained what Severus had told her, trying to be as gentle as possible. Ginny was still a nervous wreck by the time she'd finished, despite the fact that Hermione had been careful not to use words like "abuse."

Since Harry and Ron were already suspicious enough, Hermione dragged Ginny upstairs and calmed her with simple activities Ginny enjoyed. They did nails, braided hair, polished Ginny's broomstick, and Hermione even let Ginny do her makeup. All the things Hermione had never had the chance to do with a sister. And it really did seem to help.

By the time they went to bed, Ginny was laughing freely and feeling much better about the whole thing. She never once asked who Hermione's helper was, which Hermione was relieved about. She wasn't sure how Ginny would take the news that she'd gone to Severus. After all, Ginny might not place the same amount of trust in him as Hermione did.

In the morning, Fred and George had to head back home, so the family bid goodbye to them and spent the rest of the day making snow angels and building snowmen. Of course, their snowmen had a _slight_ advantage over the Muggles'. Despite the smiling—and laughing—snowmen, Hermione spent the day in private agony, although she did her best to keep her mood cheerful for Ginny's sake.

But Severus hadn't said anything about sending her a letter this time, and she was starting to wonder if he would. She sincerely hoped he would, both because she wanted to be updated on Draco's situation and because she wanted to see Severus again. No matter how nerve-wracking it would turn out to be. He'd said he wasn't going to further involve her, though, which probably meant updates were out of the question. Hermione assumed this was true when the evening passed with no letters.

The next day, the family went to Diagon Alley and enjoyed all of the street's various delights. Hermione and Harry particularly enjoyed some time together at Florean Fortescue's. Harry paid for both of them and then proceeded to apologize for his behavior toward Ginny's relationship with Draco, since it was true that he wasn't being fair in making allowances for Severus but not Draco. Apparently a letter from Luna had convinced him of this.

They went on to discuss how the pair was doing, although Harry kept stopping to make sure Hermione was all right with it. She assured him that other people's love lives didn't drag her down so much anymore. She'd almost told him about Asher, but decided against it. After all, she didn't know how Asher would want to handle things once they went back to school. Perhaps he would prefer it if no one knew.

Even though they were full on ice cream and all the treats they'd bought throughout the day, Mrs. Weasley still stuffed them all with a hefty dinner. She even made sure Ginny ate all her food, despite the fact that she had a distinct lack of appetite. Which was quite uncommon in a Weasley, and even though Ron and Harry didn't say anything, Hermione could see they were growing even more suspicious of the girls' activities.

It was, once again, after dinner when an owl flew through the window. It nearly took off Harry's ear, this time, but it landed in front of Hermione again and held out its leg. Her heart leapt and she glanced at Ginny, who stiffened in her chair immediately. Hermione snatched the envelope, stroked the bird, and bolted into the other room before another word could be spoken.

She tore open the envelope and scanned the line: "_Come to my office immediately. –S._"

Hermione went for the fireplace, then stopped and shook herself. She had to let Ginny know. She turned on her heel and motioned for Ginny to join her. Luckily, no one else noticed her in the doorway.

"I'm going to Hogwarts again," Hermione said as soon as they were safe in the living room. "Again, give me a couple of hours. It sounds urgent…."

Ginny nodded rapidly. "Thank you, Hermione. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you…that you care so much," she whispered, avoiding her eyes. "And that you kept your braid."

Hermione laughed and wrapped her in a big hug.

"Now, go play with Owen and Crookshanks and Arnold, all right?" she instructed. "Distract yourself until I come back or send word."

"What should I tell everyone?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"Oh, I don't know. I've gone to Hogsmeade for a book I couldn't find in Diagon Alley," she replied, shrugging.

Ginny nodded and they hugged one more time. Hermione waited until the girl was well into the kitchen to hurry into the Floo. When she arrived in his office, she Vanished the soot again and looked up to find Severus standing there with his arms folded, as though he'd been waiting for her. Which he probably had, considering the urgency of his message.

Hermione swallowed. "Is—"

"Come with me," Severus said abruptly, motioning for her to follow.

She skipped a step in order to catch up with his long strides as he went to the door. He whipped it open and, to her surprise, gestured her through first. She didn't have much time to gawk at him, of course, so she simply stepped through and followed him up the stairs. He went at a grueling pace, much like after Slughorn's Christmas Party (which both she and Harry had decided to skip this year) the previous year, only this was up. At least she wasn't wearing high heels.

By the time they reached the hospital wing, Hermione was wondering if Severus was actually just trying to get her to exercise. When they reached the double doors, however, all thoughts of humor disappeared and she frowned up at Severus, who had paused next to the doors. He gazed at her, as though considering, and pushed the door open, motioning for her to precede him.

Hermione hurried inside and followed him to one of the cots that were surrounded by screens. Severus opened the screen and, again, gestured for her to go ahead him. She was stunned to find Draco lying there, fast asleep, looking mostly unharmed but for his broken arm, which was braced. She knew that Severus would find Draco, but she hadn't really expected it to be this quickly.

Poor Draco. He looked so tired. And a little bit thinner, although not by much. Hermione was swallowing down the urge to rush over and hug him when Severus spoke, alerting her to his all-too near presence.

"Most of the damage was magical," Severus explained quietly. "But not permanent. Lucius would not want to spoil his only heir." He sounded disgusted. "He's been taken into custody of the Aurors. He'll face a trial soon."

Hermione fought another urge—leaning back into him for comfort. He was so close and she could feel the warmth of him right behind her. All she'd have to do was tilt back just a bit and she'd be…shoved onto the floor. Sometimes she doubted her intelligence.

"What about his mother?" she inquired, keeping her eyes on Draco.

"Narcissa has suffered under Lucius' neglect for many years," Severus said tightly, but it didn't sound like his stiffness was directed at her. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. "She will not face charges. She will, however, have to face the Wizengamot and prove she is a fit mother."

Hermione took a breath. So Malfoy was taken care of, and Narcissa was probably elsewhere being treated. Perhaps she was at St. Mungo's instead of Hogwarts, and Severus had insisted on taking Draco here. Or maybe Narcissa was behind one of the other screens and he'd insisted on taking them both here. Madam Pomfrey was the best Healer anyone could ask for, after all.

Still, Draco would need company. He needed to know somebody cared, after all. And she was certain Ginny wouldn't be allowed to stay, even if she knew of his condition. Hermione set her jaw, mind made up. She would just have to stay with Draco until Ginny could do it herself.

She turned sharply to avoid colliding with Severus and met his gaze bravely.

"I need to see the Headmaster," she said firmly.

He gazed at her, brow arched, as though he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. She held his gaze and waited for him to reach whatever conclusion he was searching for. It didn't take long, of course. Severus nodded sharply and gestured for her to go through the screen first.

* * *

"What can I do for you, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked once Severus had shut the door.

Despite the awkwardness of the memories of revelations made in this office only seven months ago, Hermione felt as comfortable there as she had when she was twelve and wanted to see the Mirror of Erised. Dumbledore made her feel so welcome with that grandfatherly smile of his that, even though the nervousness didn't go away, she still felt quite at home there.

Brushing these sentimental thoughts aside, Hermione steeled herself and took a breath.

"I-I need to know a few things, first of all," she began, surprising herself.

She'd thought she was just going to make her request and leave, but apparently she wanted answers. Which, come to think of it, was pretty typical of her.

"Yes?" he prompted, popping a lemon drop in his mouth.

"Where is Draco's mother?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

"She is tending to business with the Ministry while her son is healed here," he explained, looking a bit puzzled. "She'll have to prove she is a fit mother, but her request that Draco be kept here has been honored."

Oh. Well. That answered basically every question she had, besides what Severus had done. But she'd decided that it didn't matter to her, since he'd obviously succeeded. The how didn't matter. Especially since it was him.

"Eh…secondly, I would like to make a request," she said slowly, taking a deep breath.

Dumbledore chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Ah. Déjà vu," he said when she shot him a puzzled look.

Hermione felt her cheeks redden. "If it's all right, I'd like to spend the remainder of the holidays here at Hogwarts." She barreled on when she saw his confusion. "Ginny is one of my best friends, and she and Draco are…involved. I want to watch over Draco until Ginny can do the duty herself. Not that I don't trust Madam Pomfrey, or the staff, or anything like that. It's just…well, he needs a friendly face."

Dumbledore was shaking his head, staring at her in what appeared to be amusement. Hermione shifted in her chair a bit, feeling a bit like a twelve-year-old girl again. Only now her feet could reach the floor without strain, and she wasn't staring _up_ at Dumbledore. Although that would probably change if they were standing. _Why are you even thinking about this?_ she asked herself, nearly rolling her eyes.

"You are an amazing young woman, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said suddenly, startling her. "Just as tenacious as you were seven years ago. It's difficult to find someone so constant."

Hermione frowned. "But I have changed, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and she felt like she was missing something.

"Indeed you have, even if only in the smallest of ways," he said calmly. "You may stay, of course."

Hermione smiled, in spite of her confusion. "Thank you, sir."

He nodded and she rushed out of his office to go about making arrangements for her stay. McGonagall let her use some parchment and ink, along with the desk in her office, and Hermione wrote a quick note to Ginny. She detailed what damage had been done to Draco (with some help from McGonagall, since she didn't know everything), what was happening to Draco's parents, and added that Dumbledore was letting her stay there to watch over Draco. She hesitated to add anything about Severus, and ultimately decided to tell her in person.

Next she sent a letter to her parents, explaining that she wouldn't be returning home for the holidays and asking that they send the luggage she'd left at home to the Burrow. She put that she would ask Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to come get it, but she couldn't help adding the other ways they could accomplish their task.

Lastly, she sent a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, asking if they would please visit her parents for her luggage and then bring it all to Hogwarts. She added that there was no emergency, so they could do it in the next couple days, since she still had wizarding robes left in her quarters at Hogwarts.

And, finally, it was time to see to her duties as Draco's substitute guardian.

* * *

Hermione rolled her shoulders and stretched as she sat up with a yawn. It was late in the evening, and she'd fallen asleep reading next to Draco, who hadn't woken up yet, presumably due to all the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him. She was surprised Pomfrey hadn't kicked her out when she fell asleep. Hermione shut the book she'd been laying on and glanced around to ascertain what woke her up then, if anything. And there he was, standing just inside the screen.

Hermione swallowed down a smile. "Hello."

Severus dipped his head. Hermione glanced at the sleeping form on the bed and turned a little in her chair.

"Thank you," she whispered, allowing a little of her smile to creep up. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say it earlier. I just…thank you for doing everything you did. I know you didn't have to."

He dipped his head again and she started to wonder if he was going to speak at all. And then he did.

"You're welcome," he said quietly.

Hermione sighed, uncertain now. She fiddled with the end of the braid Ginny had put her hair into the other day and eyed the curly hairs. There wasn't much to say now, she supposed. Although one question had been bothering her for some time now.

"If Draco's mom doesn't pass the Wizengamot's trial," she prompted, meeting his eyes, "who will Draco go to?"

Severus considered that. "Me."

Hermione stared. What? Draco would go to Severus? That didn't make any sense. They weren't even that closely related, and she'd looked at the bloodlines. After she'd figured out that Severus' 'Half-Blood Prince' title must've come from his mother's maiden name, she hadn't been able to help herself. He must've read her confusion, for he took a breath and clarified.

"I'm his godfather. Legally, he will go to me. Should he choose, that is," he said flatly. "He is of age; he may choose independence if he wishes."

Suddenly everything made sense. Why Severus had done everything he had, why he'd put up with her, everything. Draco was his godson—he was practically _required_ to care. She shouldn't have assumed he did it _for her_ just because he did it at her suggestion. Hermione felt herself deflate and turned her gaze away from Severus so he wouldn't see the disappointment on her face.

"Fortunately, I would only have to suffer being his guardian for the next six months," he said irritably.

Hermione chuckled, unable to stop herself. He'd just sounded so…annoyed.

"Why are you his godfather if you don't like him?" she asked curiously.

Severus gave a graceful shrug. "I didn't have much choice in the matter. Besides, it's not exactly that I don't…like him. I'm not close with the boy. My life has been rather busy, and it made it difficult to fit in time to bond with a boy destined to be like his father."

Hermione nodded slowly as he met her eyes once more. She swallowed at the intensity of his focus, wondering what he was thinking.

"And I'm rather poor at handling children," he said suddenly.

Hermione covered her mouth a second after she burst into laughter and hoped she hadn't woken up Draco. He only shifted and then went right back to stillness. She giggled, relieved. When she glanced back at Severus, his eyes were shining. She wondered if that meant it would be okay to tease him. She decided to try it.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Hermione said with a sarcastic smile.

Severus actually smirked. Her heart leapt and she ducked her head, feeling a bit shy now. She'd made him smile! Well, sort of. A smirk was still a smile. When she looked up, he was still standing there, watching her. The smirk had faded a slight bit, replaced by something else. She peered at him curiously, and he apparently grew uncomfortable.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he purred, nodding to her once.

She nodded back and then he was gone. Hermione sighed as her body came down from the heat of his presence, and she wondered what it meant when he looked at her like that. She brushed it aside after a few moments. Who knew what it meant whenever Severus changed expression?


	14. Seventh Year: Part Six

**Disclaimer:** I really don't own this. Really.

**A/N:** To clear things up, I am not a Ron-hater. I'm merely giving him a little character development. Also, there will be more Severus/Hermione again next chapter. Cross my heart.

* * *

Hermione trudged up the stairs to her quarters, eager for a good night's sleep. She'd actually missed the privacy of her rooms over the holidays. Ginny tossed and turned in her sleep, and sometimes even talked. Mostly incoherent things, but once she'd heard her ask someone where the loo was. Hermione smiled ruefully and gave in to a yawn. It was so nice, actually feeling rested.

"Legs!"

She looked up and there Loki was, grinning at her like he'd won something. She grinned back and waved.

"I thought you weren't coming back to me for a few days," he said suspiciously. "Parents kick you out or something?"

Hermione chuckled. "No. I'm here to take care of Draco."

"Ah, I heard about Dragon Boy's troubles." Loki grinned. "Seems a certain pair of legs were in Sevvy's office. And they didn't even come say hi to me!"

He took a drink from the wine bottle he was holding and promptly folded his arms. Hermione couldn't suppress a grin at the image of the two-dimensional god pouting at her.

"I'm sorry, but his office is all the way in the dungeons," she explained. "I really didn't feel like making the trek all the way up here just to say hi and goodbye."

Loki peered past her at the stairs and then huffed.

"All right, I guess I can see your point," he allowed, shaking his head. "But you'd better not be making excuses like that now that you're here to stay!"

"Could I avoid saying hi to you even if I wanted to?" she asked pointedly.

"I guess not if you want to get in your room," he replied, winking. "So, you got a new password for me?"

Hermione shook her head, chuckling. "I hadn't really thought about it. But how about 'buxom'?"

Loki grinned widely. "And you're in."

He opened up and Hermione started to head on through, but he called her nickname again, so she peered around the corner.

"Yes?"

He smiled at her. "Glad you're back."

"Me, too," she said sincerely, then grinned. "Make sure to drink one to my health."

He laughed and Hermione disappeared into her quarters.

* * *

Draco was awake and alert when Hermione arrived in the hospital wing early the next morning. He smiled when he saw her and waved with his uninjured arm, then went back to feasting on his breakfast.

"Good morning, Draco," she said cheerfully, pulling up a chair next to him. "Glad to see you're rejoining the living."

He smirked. "Yeah, Pomfrey had me on some heavy potions. They tell me I needed to sleep for a full eight hours so my magic could recover." He rolled his eyes. "Don't see how that works, but…."

"Well, if your father was keeping you awake and making you use your magic extensively," she explained, ignoring it when Draco rolled his eyes, "then you were probably a bit drained. You needed to rest so that you could recuperate both physically and magically."

"Thank you, Professor Granger," he said, but playfully, rather than meanly.

She blushed. "So are you feeling better?"

He shrugged. "Still a little tired, but…. Wish I'd gotten to see you yesterday. How's Ginny?"

"Terrified for you," Hermione replied honestly. "I sent her a letter yesterday about what happened. I expect she'll convince her parents to let her come visit soon."

Draco sighed, almost as if in relief, and lay back against his pillow. Hermione furrowed her brow curiously and went to ask if he was all right, but he spoke before she could open her mouth.

"Thank Merlin," he murmured. "I was afraid she'd think—"

"She didn't," she assured him immediately. "She was convinced something had to have happened to you. She tried to get help, but no one wanted to listen to her. Or to me, for that matter. Even though I'm an objective party. All of them still insisted—"

"I'm a dirty Slytherin and a Malfoy," he said wryly. "What else would I do?"

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid that was everyone's thought."

Draco shook his head and sighed. They were silent while Draco finished his breakfast, and Madam Pomfrey brought Hermione some as well. While they ate, Hermione wondered if Severus had come visit Draco since yesterday evening. It seemed unlikely, since he didn't seem too interested in becoming close with him, but it was possible.

When Hermione had cleared their dishes and sat down next to him again, Draco fiddled with the blanket resting over him, eyeing her like he wanted to say something. She crossed her legs and waited for him to go ahead. She wasn't sure how to treat Draco's uncomfortable silences, since she really didn't know him that well yet. He could be like Ginny, just needing time to get it out. Or he could be like Harry, who usually needed a prompt. She decided to go with the former.

"Uh…I know that…I know that Snape was the one who got me out of there," Draco said at length, frowning. "But I don't know the details. If you and Ginny were the only ones who believed I wouldn't do anything like that to her, then…."

Hermione sighed. "Let me just tell you from the beginning, and then you can tell me what happened with your father."

He frowned, but nodded. "Fair enough."

"All right. After you stopped writing, Ginny began sending letters every day to see if you were all right. When you didn't reply to those, she tried asking her family and friends to believe her that something was wrong, but no one did. In short, when I showed up, she took me aside and told me the situation. I, too, tried to talk to Order members and Aurors, but as I said, no one would listen.

"I realized that would be silly anyway. Malfoy wouldn't exactly welcome Kingsley or Tonks into his house, after all." She took a deep breath. "So…I went to the one person I knew who could get away with a visit to your parents, without it seeming odd."

Draco stared at her. "_You_ went to _Snape_?"

Hermione found herself squirming in her chair. "Yes. Is that such a bad thing?"

"No! I-it's not _bad_. It's just…a shock," he said incredulously. "I mean, you've been avoiding the man like he's an Acromantula for the past six months."

"I know. But my mum and Harry kind of…made me realize I was being ridiculous," she explained, sighing heavily.

"Well, thank Merlin for that," he replied, shaking his head. "Ginny'll be relieved you've decided to stop killing yourself with work."

She gave him a look, but went on. "Anyway, he didn't think anything of it either, at first. But he agreed to go check on you, and the next day he told me he suspected something was wrong, as well. It only took him two days to do whatever he did after that, and now here you are. Safe and sound."

"So…he kept you updated?" he pressed curiously.

"Yes, I suppose he did," she replied, shrugging. "Now, what's your story?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're like Ginny that way. Can't shake your focus no matter how hard I try."

"Draco, come on. You know Ginny is going to want to know, too," she said persuasively. "I know it can't be fun, reliving it and all, but you're probably going to have to say it in front of the Wizengamot, too. So you may as well get in some practice."

"You should've been in Slytherin," he said dryly.

"Stop stalling," she ordered.

He huffed. "Fine. I came home for the hols and I knew Dad was angry with me, but I wrote to Ginny anyway. When he realized I was, he told me he forbade me. I told him I was of age, I could do whatever I wanted. We argued and I called him a daft, archaic codger. The Muggle-born thing came up and he snapped. He locked me in my room and he used the Imperius to make sure I didn't sleep. Did a little more damage after that.

"Then, one day, I was just sitting in the room, trying to figure out how to fix my arm since I didn't have my wand and then Snape came in and pulled me out. I saw some Aurors dragging Dad away and Snape told me he'd had the house on some kind of magical alert thing that picked up the Imperius. Mum asked Snape to take me to Hogwarts and so…here I am."

Hermione patted his hand where it was resting on the bed next to her. Draco looked surprised, but he didn't pull away. She offered him a smile.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay," she said sincerely.

"Obviously," he said in that same playful tone he'd used earlier. "After you went to _Snape_ to find out what happened to me…. I didn't know you cared so much." He grinned.

Hermione blushed. "Well…Ginny cares a lot about you. And I've become rather fond of you, as well. But don't saint me just yet. My reasons weren't solely altruistic."

"Ah, using my problems as a device to see him, were you?" he said mischievously. "You Slytherin."

She gaped, aghast, but couldn't help a smirk when she saw the grin on his face.

"And you, stupidly confronting your father over something you knew would upset him," she retorted smoothly. "You Gryffindor."

Draco mock-glowered at her and they descended into laughter.

* * *

Much later, they were both in the midst of reading books Hermione had borrowed from the library when the doors to the hospital wing burst open. Hermione knew immediately who it was, since there was a particular set of footsteps that sounded like they were heading toward them at approximately the speed of a bullet. Sure enough, Ginny burst through the screen, saw Draco, and bolted to his side.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaimed, wrapping him in a tight hug.

Hermione couldn't help a smile when she saw how happy Draco was to see Ginny. He'd brightened as soon as she came in, and now that she was in his arms, he looked as though he could burst.

"I'm so glad to see you," he replied, giving her a squeeze with his uninjured arm.

Ginny pulled back and made a fuss over his broken arm, frowning sympathetically.

"I'm so sorry. Hermione told me about it in her letter, but I forgot when—"

She was abruptly cut off when Draco kissed her. Rather vigorously, in fact. Hermione set down her book carefully and was about to leave when three red heads and a shaggy black mop appeared at the entrance to the screen. They were just lucky Madam Pomfrey had gone to talk to Professor Sprout, she reflected.

All three Weasleys and Harry looked so sheepish Hermione almost burst out laughing. Well, it really served them right. They should've believed her and Ginny that something was really wrong and it wasn't just some girly fantasy that Draco really had become a better person.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat when Draco and Ginny didn't break apart for several moments. Ginny blushed and cleared her throat, but she didn't step away from Draco, and in fact kept her hand wrapped firmly around his. Mrs. Weasley broke the silence first.

"I'm glad to see you're all right, Draco," she said, clearly uncomfortable. "I was so concerned when Ginny received Hermione's letter."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Draco said politely, even smiling. "I'm all right now."

He grinned at Ginny, who smiled back. There was another awkward silence. Ron and Harry exchanged glances, obviously uncomfortable with their guilt. Hermione just shook her head.

"Hermione!" Ginny suddenly exclaimed, and practically leapt _over_ Draco's bed to squeeze Hermione in a strangling hug.

Hermione patted her back, trying to wrench out of her grasp, but Ginny wasn't letting go.

"I owe you so, so much!" Ginny practically sobbed. "Thank you so much! You are the best friend anyone could ask for!"

"Thank you," Hermione choked. "But…I…I like breathing."

"Oh!"

Ginny released her and Hermione gasped, relieved. Draco was silently laughing, while Harry bit his lip to keep from grinning. Hermione patted Ginny's shoulder as she stood.

"You're very welcome," she assured her, then directed her gaze to the elder Weasleys.

"Oh, we brought your things in, of course," Mr. Weasley told her, smiling. "A house-elf delivered them to your rooms."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you."

He returned it, and Hermione patted Ginny on the shoulder once more.

"I'll be back soon," she told everyone. "Don't have too much fun without me."

She pushed past Ron and Harry and hurried up toward her quarters.

* * *

Ginny pounced back on Draco as soon as Hermione was gone and snuggled up next to him on the bed. Draco grinned at her, keeping his uninjured arm wrapped around her shoulders. Harry and Ron shifted, clearing their throats, while the Weasleys gave both boys stern looks.

"Uh…we're glad you're okay," Harry managed to force out. "Sorry we didn't…believe them."

"Yeah. Ditto," Ron tacked on when his mother glared at him.

"That's okay," Draco replied, shrugging.

"So, what happened?" Ginny asked, directing her gaze back to him. "Did your dad do one of those spells like Dobby did on the Dursleys' house that made it so you couldn't get any letters?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "No. I, uh, got into an argument with him and made the mistake of calling him outdated. We got into a tiff about the Muggle-born thing again."

"What Muggle-born thing?" Ron asked, oblivious.

Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry sighed, moving to occupy Hermione's chair. The Weasleys just waited for Draco to go on, quite used to Ron's tactlessness.

"He's a Death Eater," Draco said slowly, brow furrowed. "He thinks all Muggle-borns should be killed. Not to mention all Muggles. Which kind of means it's a big deal that I'm dating Ginny, since her best friend is a Muggle-born…. And because Ginny is a Weasley. He seemed really upset about that." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"The feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys has lasted for generations," Mr. Weasley put in, frowning. "You'll be the first to cross the gap in years, and Lucius isn't one for change."

"We noticed," Harry mumbled, shaking his head.

Draco just shrugged again. "He got a bit upset with me and locked me in my room. Took away my wand, too. And then, I guess, you told Hermione what was going on?"

Ginny nodded rapidly. "She was the _only_ one who would believe me, too."

She shot glares at the other four, who shifted uncomfortably. Draco flashed her a grin.

"And Hermione tried to help, too, but that wasn't working out so well, and then she went to Snape, the way I—"

"She did _what_?!!!"

Draco cringed, looking around at the five wide-eyed faces around him. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a glance, but Ginny, Harry, and Ron never broke eye contact. Ron's jaw looked like it had hit the floor pretty hard. Draco fidgeted with the fabric of Ginny's shirt, panicking a little.

"You guys didn't…know that?" he asked, unable to control the slight squeak in his voice.

"No!" Ginny exclaimed. "She just told me she was going to Hogwarts for help. I-I thought Dumbledore or McGonagall was helping her! Or Hagrid, even! But Snape?! I thought she was avoiding him!"

"Oh, shite," Draco moaned, smacking himself in the forehead.

"I can't believe she went to Snape," Ginny said quietly.

"I can't believe she told you she was going to Hogwarts, but not us," Harry added, shaking his head.

"I can't believe she didn't tell us _anything_ and that she went to that slimy, greasy git!" Ron bellowed, folding his arms tight across his chest.

"Ron!" Ginny scolded, glancing at her parents warily. "You know how she…feels. It makes sense."

"It does not!" he snapped.

"Shh, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley admonished. "Watch your volume."

"Hermione's going to kill me," Draco groaned, leaning his head against Ginny's shoulder.

She immediately began stroking his head, but got lost in thought along the way.

"She must really have been worried," Ginny realized. "I mean, to go to someone she's been trying so hard to avoid. She must really care about us."

"She must," Harry agreed. "I mean, I knew she was a good friend, but this is like…above and beyond the call of duty."

"It's—" Ron started.

"What's above and beyond the call of duty?" Hermione interjected, looking around curiously at all the different expressions. "Everything okay in here?"

"Hermione," Draco squeaked. "You're back fast."

She smiled. "It doesn't take too long to unpack with magic."

"Right." He sighed. "I'm dead."

Hermione frowned. "You're not dead. That was the whole point of bringing you to the hospital wing. You being alive."

Only the Weasleys smiled. Harry cleared his throat and opened one of the screens, mumbling something about it being too cramped in that little space. Ginny stared at Hermione in awe, while Ron fumed at her. Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Is everybody all right? Should I not have left you unsupervised?" she asked, half-teasing. "Ron, are you okay? You're looking like a tomato."

He took a breath and Hermione saw the rest of them wince before it blew.

"I can't _BELIEVE_ you did that!" Ron roared.

Hermione stared at him. "You can't believe I did what?"

"You know!" he growled, folding his arms and pouting at her.

Somehow, it was less cute when a real live person pouted at you than when a portrait did.

"Um, sorry. I really don't know," she assured him, glancing at the others.

They were all standing around, looking uncomfortable. Harry had stepped out of Draco's section and was now fidgeting with his sleeves. Hermione sighed. Apparently this was her battle, and hers alone.

"You went to that slimy arse and you didn't tell us!" Ron barked, glaring daggers at her. "Oh, sure, you told _Ginny_ you were going to Hogwarts, but you didn't think to tell your _BEST_ friends that you were going to see that great git!"

Hermione immediately bristled at the name calling, but tried to calm herself down. She would just explain and then Ron would calm down and stop being crude. She just had to walk him through it.

"You didn't believe me or Ginny that Draco was in danger and I was supposed to trust you with the knowledge that I was going to him to get help?" she asked, keeping her voice nice and steady. "What right do you think you had to know what I was up to?"

"We're your best friends!" he shouted again.

"Yes, you are," she agreed, scowling at him. "But what good would it have done to tell you I was going to Professor Snape for help when all you would've done is laugh at me? Or get angry with me, like you're doing right now."

"Oh, so now it's 'Professor Snape', huh?" he mocked. "What happened to your dear, precious 'Severus'?"

Hermione glanced at the Weasleys, whose mouths opened in shock. Mrs. Weasley looked like she wanted to say something, but it seemed the words were caught in her throat. Hermione turned back to Ron, tamping down her anger yet again. It wouldn't do any good to get worked up. It would just give him more fuel.

"You know very well that I only told a select group of people, Ron," she said coolly. "Your parents weren't among them."

"Oh, only told us what? That you're infatuated with the nasty bat?!" he bellowed, as though to yell it to the whole school.

She took a cleansing breath. "Ron—"

"I can't believe you went to him!" he continued, gesturing wildly. "After all that he's done to us, after how _cruel_ he's been, I just can't believe it!"

"Ron, you know how I feel—"

"Yes, yes, I do. But I was _hoping_ it would go away!" he yelled, sneering at her. "Not get stronger!"

"What?" She could only stare for a moment. "What did you think this was? Just a phase, or something?"

"I hoped! I thought maybe after some time you'd get over it, or after he rejected you, you would!" Ron threw up his arms. "But I guess I was wrong."

"Is that the whole reason you apologized to me?" Hermione demanded, trying not to let the hurt show. "Because you thought I'd 'get over it'?"

"Yes!" he admitted, shaking his head at her. "I can't believe you really trust that bloody Death Eater, let alone love him!"

Mrs. Weasley said something, but Hermione didn't hear it. Her rage had come bursting through the walls she'd built around it and, before she knew what she was doing, she'd snatched her wand and had it pointed at Ron's throat. His eyes were wide, but the anger didn't fade from his face. In fact, it only got redder.

"Take it back!" Hermione heard herself yell.

"Hermione—" someone said soothingly, from her left.

"Now!" she added.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "No. It's what he is, and I'm not taking it back."

"Ron, I don't think that's the best thing to say right now," Harry said, sounding panicked now.

Hermione glowered at Ron, never taking her eyes away. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Harry moving closer and, on the other side, the Weasleys shifting helplessly at the sidelines, but they were just blurs. Draco and Ginny were less of blurs, but they weren't moving at all. She didn't really care what the rest of them were doing, anyway. All her energy was focused on Ron and getting him to take back those hurtful words.

"Hermione, think about what you're doing," Harry said softly. "You don't want to do this."

"I bloody well do right now!" she snapped. "Take it back, Ron!"

"No!"

"Shut up, Ron!" Harry ordered, then quieted his voice again as he directed it toward her. "Listen to me. Ron's your friend. You know he says things when he's mad that he doesn't mean."

"I do—"

"Shut _up_!" Harry snapped again, then once again lowered his voice. "You don't want to go to Azkaban, do you?" he said in a slightly teasing tone. "Come on. Put it away."

Hermione felt her resolve wavering, but her eyes didn't leave Ron. Harry had his hand on hers and he was gently pushing the wand down, toward her side. She fought through her anger to remember her Occlumency lessons, recalling how to shut that anger down. She sighed, almost in relief, and let Harry push her hand the rest of the way down. She let out a breath, releasing the tension in her shoulders.

Ron was still glaring at her, and she glared right back. Harry was rubbing her back, trying to tug her away. Draco and Ginny were watching with dark glowers pointed at Ron. The Weasleys still didn't seem to know what to do about the whole thing, which was understandable since they'd just had quite a few shocks in a row.

"I want you to leave," Hermione said to Ron, keeping her voice calm, like it had been before he'd provoked her. "I don't want to see you right now."

He glared at her, opening his mouth to protest, but thank the heavens for Mr. Weasley, for he gathered himself together and said sharply, "Son. Go wait in the entrance hall."

Ron looked stunned, then his features darkened again and he stormed past the rest of them. Hermione closed her eyes and mentally sought her happy place, trying to find that room with the books and candles so she could sink into Severus' embrace and be soothed. Her concentration was lost when she heard Ginny gasp.

"Severus!" Mrs. Weasley said in such a squeaky voice Hermione hardly recognized it.

Hermione turned slowly, hoping and praying Mrs. Weasley wasn't right. That he wasn't there. That—and there he was, shooting an annoyed glance at Ron, who was halfway out the door, and holding a jar of purple potion. _This day could not _possibly_ get any worse_, she decided.

The door slammed behind Ron, and Severus' gaze slid over the gathering of people he loathed, locking on Hermione. She almost went to duck behind Harry in embarrassment, but something held her still. Her knees locked and she forced herself to remain calm, despite the roiling in her stomach. She had run enough, she realized. It was time to face facts: he knew how she felt, and that's how it was. As he'd promised, nothing had changed—only she had changed things by running.

Hermione grasped Harry's hand in hers and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. So she was standing her ground: this would be the first time she'd truly faced Severus—no excuses, no distractions—since he found out and she needed all the moral support she could get. Especially since she'd just embarrassed herself in front of him again.

She couldn't _believe_ she'd just threatened Ron in front of him. She found herself wondering how much of their argument he'd heard and decided it couldn't have been too much. She would've heard him come in if it were earlier in the argument. Maybe. Maybe she was just having a serious bout of wishful thinking.

Severus was striding toward the group and Hermione's panic grew, even as she employed the lessons she'd learned in Occlumency. Even as she wiped her features of emotion, she wondered if he was coming over to yell at her for what she'd just done. After all, it had been slightly irresponsible. And childish, at that.

"Molly, Arthur," he said nonchalantly.

He came to a halt and Hermione swallowed heavily, tightening her grip on Harry's hand. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley smiled anxiously at Severus and Hermione saw the latter shoot her a surreptitious glance.

"Good to see you, Severus," Mr. Weasley said cheerfully. "How've you been?"

"As well as can be expected," Severus replied, sounding—and looking—bored. "Where is Poppy?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, who shot her a brief smile. She returned it until she felt eyes on her, like she did when Severus' attention was focused only on her. She looked up and met black eyes. She swallowed again. Was he asking her? Well, of course, he probably figured she knew since she'd been here all day.

She opened her mouth to answer, but all that came out was a gust of air. She felt her cheeks flush and glanced helplessly at Ginny and Draco. The former smiled sympathetically, while the latter realized her problem and cleared his throat.

"She's off talking to Professor Sprout," Draco explained, and Severus' eyes shot to him. "Should be back any time now."

Ginny groaned. "She'll probably kick us out, too."

Hermione went to empathize, since she'd been thinking the same thing, but she still had the unique feeling that she was being watched. When she looked up, though, Severus had turned back to the Weasleys. She broke contact with Harry's hand and wiped her sweaty palms on her robes, then realized she was still holding her wand and hurriedly put it away.

"We're so happy you were able to save Draco," Mrs. Weasley said pleasantly, though a little uncertainly.

"Yes, well done," Mr. Weasley agreed, smiling.

Severus gave a graceful shrug and Hermione let out a shaky sigh when she felt a tingle travel up her spine. Harry shot her a concerned glance and she shook her head at him. She couldn't explain to him (at the moment, anyway) that she felt as though Severus' every particle was focused solely on her and that it elicited certain responses in her body. Especially since it was quite obvious his focus was on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. And she couldn't imagine telling Harry that sort of thing. He was like a brother to her, after all.

"I deserve and expect no credit," Severus purred, and Hermione couldn't help but give him a quizzical frown. "I was merely following Miss Granger's intuition."

Hermione's cheeks reddened. She wondered if she looked like a tomato now.

"Oh, yes, Draco did tell us she was the one to let you know what was going on," Mrs. Weasley replied, nodding.

"Yes, well. Miss Granger can be very…" he paused to gaze at her so intently her knees started to wobble a little, "convincing."

Hermione couldn't help it: she squeaked. The rest of the group turned to look at her, as well, and she tried to snatch Harry's hand again, but he stepped back and gave her a little push forward. She nearly stumbled and she stared at him incredulously over her shoulder. He grinned at her, gesturing as though to give her the floor. She glared at him and fought to find her center and compose her face once more.

Once she felt she'd covered the panic, Hermione faced the Weasleys and Severus, all of whom were gazing at her expectantly. She cleared her throat. Great, now she had to come up with something to say. She glanced at Ginny, who nodded encouragingly.

"Um…I just wanted to say that it was really Ginny's intuition?" Hermione managed. "I-I had very little to do with anything."

Severus' brow arched, but he said nothing. Hermione shot Harry another glare when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him grinning at her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a glance full of meaning, but Hermione couldn't read it. She cleared her throat again.

"But thank you," she added sincerely, managing to pull off the tiniest of smiles.

Severus didn't react to this, at least not outwardly, and no one else received a chance to say anything, either. Madam Pomfrey came hurrying in at that moment, carrying a crate of what Hermione assumed were plants, although they looked like baby squids or something.

"Oh, Arthur, Molly! Hello!" Pomfrey said cheerfully as she strode toward them. "How lovely to see you both. Severus, thank you for bringing that. If you would bring it to my office, that would be appreciated. I'll return momentarily with your potions, Draco."

Severus dipped his head toward Pomfrey and Hermione saw his gaze flicker back to her before he followed the woman into her office. The six of them left in the room adjusted clothing and stances, not once meeting each other's eyes. That conversation had been awkward enough without adding observations.

A moment later, Pomfrey burst from her office, trailed by a much calmer Severus.

"How long have you all been here?" Pomfrey asked pleasantly, even as she handed potions to Draco.

He made a face at the tastes and Ginny stroked his head comfortingly. Hermione was surprised the woman hadn't shoved everyone else out the door by now, but she supposed it was because she only had one patient anyway, and he seemed to be enjoying the company. She felt a tingle travel up her spine again and glanced Severus' way. He was gazing impassively at Madam Pomfrey.

She cleared her throat and focused on the conversation still going on between the Weasleys and Madam Pomfrey.

"Don't worry, Poppy, we'll leave soon," Mr. Weasley assured her good-naturedly. "Ginny just wanted a chance to see him today. And I'm sure we'll be back again tomorrow." He winked at Ginny, who smiled back at him.

"Yes, we'd better be going soon," Mrs. Weasley agreed with a sigh. "Ron will still be waiting for us."

Hermione felt herself stiffen and hardened her composed expression. It wouldn't do to let Severus see that she was _still_ angry. She'd already practically announced it to him all over again that she loved him. That is, if he'd heard Ron's insult and knew he was talking about him…. Either way, there was no need to remind him.

Ginny sighed. "Do we have to? Can't I just stay?"

Mrs. Weasley gave her a look. "We've already discussed this. Hermione has already been given permission to stay and watch over Draco _for_ you. I don't think she'd appreciate it very much if you gave up your holiday as well."

"I don't—" Hermione started, but froze when Mrs. Weasley gave _her_ the look.

"It's okay," Draco assured Ginny, smiling up at her. "I'll be fine, as long as you come see me soon."

"Every day, if I can," Ginny promised, kissing him briefly.

"Hold still, Mr. Malfoy," Pomfrey instructed absently.

"I'll be seeing you soon, then," Severus said, almost civilly.

Hermione glanced away from Pomfrey's wand, which hovered over Draco's arm, to Severus, who was shaking hands with Mr. Weasley. A part of her immediately began to pout—she didn't want him to leave. Severus' eyes flicked to her and her breath hitched. He nodded once and then slipped out of the room, barely noticed by the rest of the occupants.

* * *

Ron stretched out along his bed and heaved a sigh. He was so bored. Ever since they got back from Hogwarts, the family had been as quiet as mice. Mum went to make dinner, after having her usual nonverbal communication with Dad. And Dad went to tinker with a toaster or roaster or some such Muggle contraption. Ginny went straight to her room.

So Ron just followed Harry up to his room, hoping they'd play Exploding Snap or something like that. But instead, Harry had grabbed one of Ron's Quidditch books and began flipping through the pages as he sat comfortably in Percy's old chair, which Ron stole from his room as soon as the prat moved out.

Hedwig and Pig were cleaning their feathers and occasionally squabbling over who got to stand on more of the metal bar they were perched on. Hermione had gotten the owl stand for him for Christmas fifth year, so Pig would have plenty of places to sit. It had five bars coming out from it that could be retracted or lengthened.

Ron huffed and turned his head to look at Harry again. Hermione and her stupidity could be easily forgotten with a game of Exploding Snap, he was sure.

"You want to play some Exploding Snap?" he offered.

Harry kept flipping. "Not right now."

Ron sighed and flipped onto his back. He'd already been through his Quidditch books a hundred times. Mostly to look at the pictures, but he'd truly read them each at least five times. So that would've been a bore, too.

"We could play Gobstones," he suggested, looking over at Harry with hopeful eyes.

Again, he didn't look up. "Maybe later."

Ron scowled, trying to think of something else Harry might be interested in doing. Other than ignoring him and flipping through his book. Pig finally got the rest of his bar when Hedwig flapped over to Harry and perched on the arm of the chair. Harry stroked her feathers affectionately and Hedwig nuzzled him. An idea struck Ron.

"We could play one-on-one Quidditch," he said excitedly, sitting up.

"No, thanks," Harry said calmly.

Ron stared. That was it—Harry _had_ to be mad about something. There was no way he would turn down Quidditch if he wasn't. The question was, what was he mad about? Ron frowned in thought. Well, the only way to know for sure was to ask.

"Why are you mad?" he blurted.

Harry didn't even flinch. "I'd think that'd be obvious."

Ron frowned. "Uh…well, it's not. Not to me."

The book snapped shut and Ron swallowed as Harry turned a glare onto him.

"How about because you really hurt Hermione's feelings?" he retorted sharply. "You took away the acceptance you gave her, _and_ you insulted Snape, _and_ you told your parents about it when she obviously didn't want them to know."

"All right, I admit the last one was wrong," Ron conceded, hurrying on before Harry could add anything else. "But I didn't want to spend any more months without my two best friends, and I thought she'd get over it. I mean, you know…hormones! An—"

"Hermione has loved him for six years," Harry snapped, frowning. "That's not something you just get over."

Ron felt his blood start to boil. "I don't get you. How can you be so understanding? You, of all people, who hates Snape the most. You know better than I do he's a nasty, foul—"

"You want to know the truth? Yeah, it's a little hard for me to handle sometimes," he allowed, but then shook his head. "But if Hermione, of all people, loves him, then there's got to be something there that I'm not seeing. Some kind of good. And besides, it shouldn't matter who she loves. Like you said, she's our best friend. Would it kill you to show a little support?"

And before Ron could answer, Harry tossed down the book and slammed the door shut behind him. Hedwig screeched unhappily and Pig's feathers fluffed up, but Ron ignored them. He couldn't believe Harry was siding with her.

* * *

"Are you done?"

Draco nodded and handed Hermione his tray, which she piled on top of her own and brought to the 'to-be-sanitized' table Madam Pomfrey showed her earlier. When she returned, Draco looked like he was chewing over something he wanted to say again, so she simply sat and waited. That worked the last time he couldn't figure out what he wanted to say, so she decided that employing the same tactic would be best.

In the meantime, Hermione reveled in her success from earlier. She had faced Severus, in a group of people, without turning into a stuttering mess. And there had been nothing else to focus on—not Ginny's fears, nor Draco's pain. Nothing except Severus himself. She'd survived.

She could've thought about Ron's betrayal of her trust, but that was much less joyful, so she pushed that to the back of her mind. She would deal with it later, she decided.

Draco cleared his throat. "Hermione, I…I want to say something that's not easy for me to say to you. I don't think I've ever done it before. I-I mean I have. With Ginny, but that's different. It's just that—"

Hermione smiled. "Draco, I'm not going to bite. Whatever you want to say, go ahead."

He sighed. "Well…I-I…I'm sorry."

He ducked his head and she could swear his ears went pink. Hermione's brow furrowed. What was he sorry for? He had nothing to be sorry for, unless he was talking about the past six years and how he'd treated her and her friends up until Ginny's influence. Maybe that was it. She could see nothing else to apologize for.

"Of course you're forgiven," she said reassuringly. "You've changed a lot, and that's enough to make up for any misunderstandings in the past."

"Oh, no, that's not—" he sighed. "That's not what I was apologizing for. Although I am sorry for that, don't get me wrong. It's just…I meant that I'm sorry for telling everyone that you went to Snape. I-I didn't know you hadn't told them."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing. He was sorry for that? She suddenly realized Draco had the potential to be a very sweet guy. She patted his hand twice and sat back in her chair.

"You don't have to be sorry," she said soothingly. "They would've figured it out eventually anyway. And besides, I was going to tell them myself when I got back. Or at least I was going to tell Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I wasn't so sure Ron and Harry would be very understanding."

Draco frowned. "Weasley certainly wasn't."

She heaved a sigh, folding her arms. He was right, of course. Ron hadn't been very understanding, and she was still extremely upset with him. It was hard to believe he was capable of such trickery. She'd apparently underestimated his ability to be cruel. Still, he had just been angry, and as Harry said, Ron said things he didn't mean when he was angry.

"Ron will cool down," Hermione said certainly. "He'll realize what he's done and probably try to apologize without seeming like he's admitting he's wrong. As all males are prone to do."

"Oh, great. Now she's a feminist," Draco said, but he was grinning. "What's it going to be this time? Witches Halting Oppression?"

She fought a smirk and finally managed a mock-glare.

"I'm never going to live down the house-elf thing, am I?" she asked, almost hopefully.

"You mean spew?" he retorted, grinning when she huffed. "I don't think so. That's kind of hard to forget."

He shot her another grin and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, I am off to bed. Before you can think of more acronyms," she announced, gathering the books they'd borrowed for the day.

Draco snapped his fingers. "Now I've got to think fast. Uh…Witches Against Sexist Precedents!"

Hermione laughed as she headed for the door, shaking her head.

"No?" he called.

"Good night, Draco!"

Hermione chuckled to herself and strolled down to the library to return their books. They'd finished them all today, which wasn't that surprising. They were spending hours just sitting in the hospital wing, or walking around it to help Draco get his strength back. So they had some time to read, and Hermione found that she rather missed reading just for pleasure.

Of course, she still wanted to discuss it when she was finished, and Draco was good for discussing potions and some spells. But still. His books were mostly Quidditch-related, which was understandable since he planned on being a Quidditch player, but it didn't exactly lead to academic discussions.

Besides, she found they differed a bit in their views on some topics—which was sometimes good, but they also differed in the way they discussed things. Draco tended to state his opinion, listen to hers, and then expect the discussion to be over. Hermione, of course, liked to go a little more in-depth than that.

Not for the first time that day, Hermione felt a small ache in her chest. She idly rubbed it and sighed, trying to clear her head with a shake. _Again_, she reminded herself, _just because you're not avoiding him anymore doesn't mean you can go running into his quarters every time you want to talk about something._

Pince sniped at her about having the books back so late, but Hermione maintained her usual pleasant façade and turned back up the stairs. It was time for a nice night of cuddling with Crookshanks and perusing an old classic. Maybe 'Sense and Sensibility.' Or perhaps a play, like 'The Taming of the Shrew.' Well, in any case, she would start with a bath, she decided.

She could certainly use it. The warm, soothing water relaxing all the muscles she'd used, cleansing her skin. She could make use of the lavender-scented soap Ginny had gotten her for Christmas. Hermione smiled to herself, until she realized she'd reached her portrait. And he was giggling at her.

She arched a brow. "Now what's so funny?"

Loki snorted. "Oh…nothing."

Hermione frowned deeply. She certainly hoped he wasn't up to something. As far as she knew, he couldn't leave his portrait and others couldn't enter his. That was what she'd deduced, since she'd never seen him leave. Nor had she seen any visitors. Of course, that very well could've been because the other portraits didn't want to be pranked.

So perhaps Loki had finally gotten bored of teasing poor McGonagall and the other staff members. Maybe that just wasn't enough anymore. Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"What did you do?" she asked sternly.

He gasped. "Legs! I'm insulted." But then he started giggling again. "_I_ didn't do anything."

"Who did something, then? And what did they do?" she demanded.

"I'm not supposed to tell," he whispered, grinning widely at her.

She frowned. "Why not?"

Loki turned semi-serious and shook his head. "Can't tell you that, either. Let's just say he owes me another favor."

"Who—"

When he made a motion of zipping his lips, Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. She was obviously going to get nowhere with this. Well, at least she knew _he_ hadn't done anything. He was still giggling, so she sighed.

"I'm turning in for the night," she informed him. "Please don't let me wake up to find you _have_ done something awful. I really don't want a new portrait."

Loki put his hand over his heart, grinning. "Aw, Legs! Don't worry. You aren't getting rid of me that easily!" He winked.

She chuckled. "Good. Buxom."

He opened up, giggling again. Hermione shook her head as she stepped through the portrait hole, giving Crookshanks a scratch on the head when he bounded up to greet her. He'd been quite displeased with her earlier, since she'd 'abandoned' him at the Weasleys. A bowl of food fixed that, of course, but now he was demanding pets as payment.

Crookshanks rubbed against her legs and purred, so Hermione bent down to give him a few more scratches. When she stood, her heart nearly stopped. There was something on the coffee table.

She pulled out her wand, almost without thinking, and inched around the couch, squinting in the dim light to make out the shape of the object. With a flick of her wand, the fireplace was roaring and she could see most of it now: a lump of dark brown with a green ribbon tied around it. When she stood right over it, she could see plainly that it was a pair of gloves.

Hermione frowned and scanned them with a wave of her wand. Nothing suspicious, apparently. She gingerly picked them up by the wrists and a small slip of parchment hung from them. She immediately snatched it and stepped closer to the fireplace so she could see it properly. Whoever had sent it had apparently used a dictating quill, if the handwriting was any indication. It said simply: "_I noticed you were in need of a pair. Happy Belated Christmas._"

Hermione ran her hands over the gloves, which were suede on the outside. She dipped a hand inside and felt the softest velvety warmth encase her fingers. They were just the right color to match her coat, too. She took a moment to allow her hand to enjoy the present, slipping her wand back in her pocket.

Crookshanks sat impatiently on the couch, pawing her robes every once in a while. Hermione patted his head absently, allowing her mind to wander. Unlike Harry, she wasn't one to become inordinately attached to strange objects unknown persons left her. But she'd already scanned it and there was no danger. Still…it wasn't quite right.

There was no signature, no clue as to who had been in her quarters. It appeared they hadn't touched anything else, but if Loki was letting people into her rooms and—she tightened her grip on the gloves and stormed out of the rooms, slamming Loki's portrait shut when she reached the outside. His wine nearly spilled all over his face as he tried to regain his balance, but she got straight to business. She held up the gloves accusingly.

"Loki, who did you let into my rooms?" Hermione demanded, scowling at him. "And I don't want to hear excuses. I just want the truth. Who?"

Loki wiped his mouth, looking disgruntled. She waited impatiently for his answer.

"I can't tell you that," he said at last, clearing his throat.

She gaped. "Why ever not?!"

"I don't know what you're so worked up about, Legs," Loki replied, leaning against the frame of his portrait. "Free gloves! And he didn't do any damage, right? No dungbombs left behind?"

"Well, no, but…it's the principle of the thing!" she retorted. "I'm not comfortable with you letting people into my rooms. Particularly when they leave mysterious notes with no signature."

"As I said: I let him do it, he owes me another favor," he said, shrugging. "Besides, I didn't see the harm. He was only in there long enough to leave you the gloves."

Hermione huffed. "Who, Loki?!"

He took a swig of his wine. "You're going to have to figure it out on your own, Legs."

"At least give me a clue!" she begged, frowning up at him.

Loki sighed. "All righty, but you're just going to get mad."

"Tell me," she said firmly.

"It was your young wooer," he replied dramatically.

Hermione's brow furrowed. She didn't _have_ a wooer. Unless he was talking about Asher, but she'd taken care of that. Hadn't she? It might make sense that he would leave her something without a signature then, but she didn't know he'd been at Hogwarts…. And it hadn't been there earlier.

She took a breath. "Are you talking about—"

"No more questions, or you'll lose me my favor!" Loki exclaimed, scowling. "And I don't want to lie to you."

Hermione smirked. "How sweet."

He folded his arms and pouted at her again. Hermione bit her lip to keep from chuckling.

"Okay…I'm going in for good now. Just please, no more tours in my room?"

"All right, all right. If he ever asks again, I'll tell him my lady would prefer wooing be kept out of her private quarters," Loki said grumpily.

She grinned. "Thank you. Buxom."

He opened up and Hermione reentered, much to the relief of Crookshanks, who leapt up onto her shoulders and sat there all the way up the stairs. Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from the mysterious gloves and the note. Could Asher really have convinced Loki to let him in? And what did Loki mean, the person owed him favors? Did that mean he'd been in her rooms before? Or that Loki had done something else for them before? She hoped it was the latter, but….

Crookshanks leapt down onto the bed and promptly lay down, purring up at her. Hermione scratched his head again as she headed into the lavatory, still carrying the gloves. If Asher had been to Hogwarts, wouldn't she have seen him? And why would he visit just long enough to give her the gloves anyway? Maybe Loki was referring to someone else.

Maybe he'd misunderstood her relationship with Harry or Ron or someone. Still, that didn't make sense, either. The gloves hadn't been there before the Weasleys left, and Ron had been mad at her before they left. Harry hadn't left her sight. Besides, either one of them could've simply given it to her at Christmas. Unless one of them _was_ trying to woo her, which she doubted, since Ron was with Lavender and Harry was deeply involved with Luna. Plus, ew.

Hermione sighed as she set the gloves down on the side of the sink and began peeling off clothing. She supposed she would just have to contemplate it further later on. In the meantime, it was time for her relaxing bath.


	15. Seventh Year: Part Seven

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I've been unable to attain Aladdin's lamp. So I still don't own this.

**A/N:** I'm really, really sorry about this chapter being late, but RL has not been the kindest of late. I will try to keep this from happening again.

* * *

Hermione left the library with four books in hand, two for her and two for Draco. Draco had only requested the one Quidditch book, but she'd decided to bring him a Charms book so they could talk about one of the spells in it. Personally, she thought it worked well, but a recent article in _The Wise Wizard_ disagreed. So she'd decided to seek a second opinion. And even if Draco's opinion wasn't her first choice, she'd grown to respect his academic prowess.

Some of the students who'd stayed over the holidays bolted past her down the stairs, giggling to themselves. Hermione shook her head as she mounted the stairs and smiled. She had quite a few memories of catching Ron and Harry doing much the same thing after they'd done some rule-breaking. Of course, she always made them go back and fix it, which was why they often wore Harry's Invisibility Cloak even after they'd done their horrible thing.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of an argument just up the stairs.

"I've already told you why," Severus snapped irritably. "I attended both the first and second of your ridiculous celebrations this year. I don't see why I should be bothered to come to this one."

"Oh, but the first and second were _Christmas_ celebrations!" Dumbledore said persuasively. "This is for the New Year!"

"And I suppose you'll celebrate _that_ three nights in a row as well."

Hermione muffled a chuckle as she reached the top of the stairs. The two wizards were quite a sight—Severus had his arms folded and, from the looks of his posture, he was sulking, while Dumbledore was twinkling at him and patting his shoulder. If Severus weren't so intimidating even when sulking, she would've thought they looked like a father and his teenage son discussing lawn-mowing responsibilities or something like that.

Dumbledore was laughing. "Oh, no! Of course not. The New Year will only be one night's celebration."

Severus eyed him suspiciously. "It will?"

"Yes, Minerva explained to me that there should only be one celebration for each day," he replied genially, unfazed by the younger wizard's wariness, "and since we already had three parties for Chris—oh, Miss Granger!"

Hermione froze before she went to ascend the next set of stairs. Here was another chance to face Severus, but there was no Harry to hold onto. She steadied herself and fought to maintain her composed expression as she turned about. Severus had whipped around and she, again, felt that tingle travel up her spine. Dumbledore smiled widely at her, as though he'd just won something.

Blowing past that, she smiled and asked politely, "Yes, sir?"

"The staff is having a New Year's celebration this evening," he informed her cheerfully. "Since you are no longer a student, I thought perhaps you might like to join us."

Hermione shifted, chancing a glance at Severus. He was leveling a harsh glower at Dumbledore, but the older wizard didn't seem to notice. She heaved her books higher up in her arms and cleared her throat.

"Eh…sure," she replied, nodding. "Th-that would be lovely."

"Splendid!" Dumbledore exclaimed, clapping his hands together. He placed a hand on Severus' shoulder and added, "You see? Miss _Granger_ wants to come."

Hermione felt heat creep up her cheeks and wished she didn't have an armful of books so she could cover up the redness spreading over her skin. Severus eyed her briefly and turned his attention to Dumbledore, looking extremely displeased with the older man.

"Yes, well…she was not at the first two, was she?" Severus countered. "Nor has she worked here for the last twenty years. She is therefore unaware of the five hours of excruciation which she just agreed to put herself through."

"Perhaps you'd better come and protect her then," Dumbledore suggested, twinkle at full power.

Hermione had a feeling that that wasn't going to go over well. Severus' expression darkened and his folded arms tightened across his chest. Dumbledore looked unfazed, as usual, and Hermione wondered how the man was not afraid of Severus' anger. He was awfully frightening when he was angry, in her opinion. She was just glad he hadn't gotten that mad at her in the last few years.

It looked like Dumbledore really did have nothing to fear, though, because Severus didn't say anything. He merely broke Dumbledore's gaze and trained his dark eyes on the floor. She wondered how he hadn't scorched it. Dumbledore was still smiling, and she was beginning to feel like she was missing something.

She cleared her throat. "Sir, would it be all right if Draco came, too? I know he's a student, but he is of-age and…well, he's gotten a little bored sitting in the hospital wing at all hours."

"Of course!" Dumbledore replied excitedly, as though he wished he'd thought of it. "The more, the merrier! You'll have to get Poppy's permission, but I'm sure she wouldn't protest a couple hours."

Hermione chuckled with Dumbledore, who started talking about how delightful it would be, since they'd never had students at their parties before. She was nodding obediently as he explained how boring the parties had been when he was just a professor when she felt another tingle go up her spine. The feeling of Severus' attention hadn't gone away since he'd turned around, so she wondered what brought on this new surge of awareness.

She glanced over at him and found exactly what it had been. Severus was staring at her quite intently, wearing that same half-smile he'd given her two nights ago. His eyes weren't shining as they had been that evening, but she understood just the same. She gathered herself and smiled back, biting her lip to keep from grinning when he rolled his eyes at the Headmaster.

She was so thrilled about this private joke that she forgot to keep listening to Dumbledore and completely missed a question he asked. When she realized it suddenly got quiet, Hermione cleared her throat and tried to come up with something to say. But apparently it didn't matter, since Dumbledore was merely twinkling at the both of them, looking between them eagerly.

"Perhaps it would be best to let Miss Granger go on her way," Severus said calmly. "She has duties to attend to, after all."

"Oh, yes! Of course! I look forward to seeing you tonight at eight o'clock," Dumbledore told her, smile spreading from ear to ear. "In the Great Hall."

She couldn't help but smile back. "Okay. Great." She started up the stairs, but paused to ask, "Oh, h-how formally should Draco and I dress?"

"This is a very casual event," Dumbledore assured her. "Don't be too concerned with it."

Hermione nodded and glanced at Severus again. The smirk had faded, but he offered her a nod. She returned it and hurried up the stairs. Draco had probably started on breakfast without her.

* * *

Later, while Draco was involved in the Charms book and Hermione was flipping through the rest of the articles in _The Wise Wizard_, she wondered if Severus would have done that with anyone else. All right, so she knew he didn't feel that way about her, but it seemed fairly unusual for him to joke with anyone. Even if it was silently.

Perhaps he did it with McGonagall. They seemed pretty close, in spite of their shared rivalry when it came to their Houses. Whenever Severus sat next to McGonagall at meals, they had very long and, from the looks of it, very intense discussions. But when he sat next to anyone else, he would either ignore them or only talk casually. So maybe he joked with her sometimes, too.

Then again, that would mean that Severus saw Hermione like he saw McGonagall. Like an intelligent, tolerable colleague. Or maybe a sister-like friend. Hermione didn't really like either of those options and, frankly, she didn't see where he would see her that way. Sure, they had intellectual discussions that lasted hours last year and he didn't seem to mind her in that sense. But she didn't think he saw her as a colleague, since she wasn't, and she hoped he didn't see her as a sister. That was just cringe-worthy.

However, a friend wouldn't be too awful. In fact, she'd be honored to be Severus' friend. Although, after last year's revelations, she doubted he saw her that way, either. Especially since he didn't seem to keep many friends, unless you qualified his fellow colleagues as friends. And even then he only had two close friends, from what she'd seen. Still, even if he saw her as an 'acquaintance' it would be nice.

_You're being ridiculous again. He probably doesn't even like you_, she thought glumly. But for once, Hermione found herself pushing that thought aside. After all, in the last few days in which she hadn't been avoiding him, Severus hadn't given her any actual signs of not liking her. He'd actually been…well, civil. Almost pleasant, even.

Hermione frowned at this realization. What if he didn't hate her? What if he was just…indifferent to her? Was it possible that her fear of his cruel rejection was all in her head? Had she actually brainwashed herself into some sort of denial? She needed to talk to Ginny, she decided immediately.

She was just about to ask Draco if he knew when Ginny was coming when, speak of the devil, the hospital wing doors burst open and the redhead herself came charging over. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley followed at a much calmer pace, with Harry trailing behind them.

"Good morning!" Ginny bellowed, squeezing Hermione in a hug and then launching herself onto a grinning Draco. "How are you two today?"

"Great now," Draco replied.

Ginny's lips were suddenly occupied and Hermione stood to greet the other three. She thought they were cute, but she simply didn't need to see them mauling each other. Mrs. Weasley hugged her immediately upon seeing her.

"Oh, Hermione, dear," she said kindly. "How are you?"

Hermione smiled uncertainly. "I'm all right. How are you?"

It wasn't that she wasn't happy to see them, but they were acting perfectly normal, which was what was disturbing Hermione a little. After all, the last time the Weasleys saw her, they found out she was in love with Severus. And not only that, but she threatened their son. She thought they'd be a little upset with her about that.

"Oh, fine, dear," Mrs. Weasley assured her. "Just fine." She beamed.

Hermione managed a nervous chuckle and nodded while the two simply smiled down at her.

"So…Harry," she blurted, peering around them. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Good. So everyone's fine," she said, shifting around them uncomfortably. "Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?"

As soon as he nodded, the Weasleys walked off toward Draco's bed. Hermione frowned after them and then grabbed Harry's arm, hauling him out into the hallway. Ginny was busy, after all, and Harry was her best friend, so it wouldn't hurt anything talking to him instead. First she had to see how he felt about what happened yesterday, though.

"Where's Ron?" she prompted once they were alone.

Harry scowled and stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked.

"At the Burrow," he grumbled. "He's being stupid."

"How?"

"He thinks you should be the one to apologize," Harry explained angrily, "even though _he's_ the one who—"

Hermione launched herself on him and he grunted when he caught her. He patted her back when she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, I'm so glad," she said happily.

Harry pulled back to give her a quizzical look. "You're glad Ron's being an insensitive arse?"

She laughed. "No. I'm glad you're not angry with me, too."

"Why would I be angry with _you_? You didn't tell Ron you were okay with his relationship with Lavender because you thought it was just a phase!" he exclaimed as they resumed walking down the hall. "And you didn't call Lavender a brainless Divinator, or something…meaner. And you didn't tell your parents he was dating her even though he told you not to."

Hermione grinned at him. "You're the best, you know that?"

He smiled back and they walked in companionable silence for a while. Hermione gathered her courage as they walked, bolstered by his reaction to Ron's betrayal. Harry had never been the one to tell her not to call him Severus, or to start insulting him to her face. Sure, he would complain about anything he felt was unfair, but he'd never put Severus down in front of her. She took a deep breath.

"I need to talk to you about something," she began, eyeing him briefly.

Harry nodded. "Sure. What's up?"

Hermione sighed, trying to decide where to start. "Well…I ran into Dumbledore and Severus earlier. And something sort of happened…I think."

She glanced at him and he peered at her curiously.

"What?"

"There was this moment where Severus and I…I think we shared a-a joke," she said slowly, still watching him for signs of reaction.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Dumbledore was talking about tonight's staff party and how boring they used to be before he was Headmaster and I noticed Severus was looking at me. So I looked over and he had this little smirk and he rolled his eyes at Dumbledore and it was kind of like…we were laughing together."

When she didn't go on, Harry took a breath.

"So…is there more to this, or…?" he asked. "Because I'm not sure how to help you if that's all you wanted to say."

She chuckled and shook her head. "No. I-it just sort of got me thinking." She stopped walking and turned to face him, taking another deep breath. "Do you think it's possible that he doesn't hate me? That I've been in denial this whole time and he really just doesn't care?"

Harry stared at her for so long she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he sighed, shook his head, and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione, I have been saying that literally this entire time," he said firmly, and then kept walking.

She immediately ran to catch up, frowning.

"You have not! You've been saying that he likes me ever since he told us he wasn't going to kill us!" she protested, frowning at him.

"Whatever. Same difference," Harry said dismissively. "The point is, you've been protecting yourself by deciding there's no way in hell he'd ever like you so that, in case he really doesn't, you won't be hurt."

"That's not true," Hermione shot back. "Would I be considering that he might be indifferent to me if that were true?"

"You're still not admitting that he like-likes you, so yes," he insisted, shaking his head. "I mean, come on, Hermione, let's look at the facts."

"Yes, let's," she growled, scowling at him.

He ignored that and lifted up a hand. "One: he felt it necessary to tell you alone that he wasn't going to kill you, despite the fact that he'd already said it. Two: he told you he couldn't talk about how he felt. That means he does feel something, so it's not indifference. Three: he spent three days looking for Draco after you asked him to."

"Okay, that does not count," Hermione persisted, folding her arms. "He didn't know Draco needed looking for, for one thing. And Draco is his godson. He probably would've done the same if you asked him to."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, right. You notice how he still treats me like the dirt on his boots? There is no way he'd go looking for Draco if I asked him to. Four: he was completely _horrid_ to Hufflepuff for about three months after you started tutoring Asher."

"What does that matter?" she asked, puzzled. "Maybe a Hufflepuff made him angry."

"Yeah. Asher." Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, if you're going to _stay_ in denial, I can't help you."

"Harry, please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad, I just—ugh." He faced her and sighed. "I'm not mad. I just want you to see that even if Snape doesn't love you, he definitely likes you on some level. I mean, do you really think he'd mock the Headmaster with just anyone?"

Hermione shifted and shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I thought maybe McGonagall…."

"Still not just anyone," he countered. "You're going to have to accept that Snape doesn't hate you, all right? I don't want you to get your hopes up too high, either. But I don't want you to make yourself miserable thinking something that's not true."

She took a breath. "Well, I guess I'd better get over the denial thing then." She sighed. "This is going to be easy," she added sardonically.

Harry smiled and patted her shoulder. "Believe me, I know. I was in it for six months myself before Luna and I finally got it together. But me and Ginny and…Draco, probably, are here for you, okay?"

"I know." She smiled. "Whether I like it or not."

He grinned and pulled her in for another hug.

* * *

Hermione yawned heavily and readjusted into a better reading position once again. Ginny, the Weasleys, and Harry left shortly after lunch, and it was still two hours before dinner, but Hermione was bored. She'd already read through the books she'd brought once, and she and Draco had already discussed the charm she'd wanted to. It didn't take long, since they both agreed. And Draco still thought discussions didn't need to be any longer than it took to state your opinion.

When she huffed and flipped the page again, Draco sighed. She felt him shifting in the bed and wondered briefly if he was as bored as she was. Probably not, since he was now involved in his Quidditch book. They'd already taken three walks around the hospital wing, with Madam Pomfrey's help, and Draco was doing just fine. All he had now was a bruise on the bone of the formerly broken arm, and Pomfrey didn't want him doing any magic until she was one hundred percent sure that he'd recovered.

Draco was a little upset about this, but Hermione had been able to halt the impending argument earlier by pointing out that both Lucius and Narcissa would be on trial soon. Then the conversation naturally flowed away from the dangerous subject of when Draco could be off bed-rest.

"It's snowing," Draco commented, heaving another sigh.

Hermione glanced out the window and, sure enough, flurries danced in the breeze just outside. She nodded.

"So it is."

Draco shifted and took a breath. "Why don't you go outside?"

Hermione eyed him sharply and his ears went pink as he immediately went to explain.

"Not that I want you to go or anything, or like I'm trying to get rid of you," he said hurriedly. "It's just that it can't be fun for you, sitting in here all day long, babysitting me. Why don't you go enjoy yourself? I don't know much about your…winter habits, but from what I do know, you seem to enjoy being outside in the spring, at least."

"This can't be fun for you, either," she replied, shaking her head.

"Yeah, but I _can't_ go outside," he said, shrugging. "Pomfrey would skin me alive. You'll be enjoying it for the both of us."

Hermione frowned and sat up. She hadn't realized how long she'd been in that position until her back cracked. She sighed. Well, Draco did have a point. And going outside would be good for her—she hadn't been able to enjoy the fall very much since she'd been working herself so hard. Why miss the winter, too?

"What do you like to do in the winter?" she asked. When he gave her a puzzled frown, she added, "If I'm enjoying it for both of us, I should do something you like, too."

He chuckled. "I see. Well…I just like walking out there. Snowball fights are always fun, too. And Ginny and I made snow angels on our way back from Hogsmeade before the holiday started. That was all right."

Hermione smiled. "All right, snow angels it is."

She shut the book and stood to gather her coat and bring the books they'd finished back to the library. Draco closed the Quidditch book on his finger and scooted up in bed, watching her curiously.

"So what do you like to do?" he inquired.

She considered that. "I guess all winter activities. Snowmen-making is usually more fun with more people. Snow angels are all right. Sleigh rides are really fun. I'm not so much into the snowball fights. Especially when you play with Ron and he 'accidentally' gives his fangs. But what I really love to do is ice skate."

"Ice skate?" Draco prompted, looking confused.

She frowned. "Come on, Draco, even purebloods should know what ice skating is. I know it's more of a Muggle thing, but—"

"You mean when you put blades on your shoes and slide around on the ice?" he cut in, scowling.

"That would be the one."

"Are you mad?"

Hermione laughed. "I guess so."

* * *

It was fast approaching time for dinner when Hermione finally slid off the ice and transfigured her shoes back to normal. There had never been a point to bringing her ice skates to Hogwarts before, since she went home for the holidays anyway, so she'd had to rely on magic. Which she, of course, didn't mind.

She was freezing from being out in the snow so long, but at least the gloves from the mysterious suitor kept her hands nice and warm. She wondered if they had a heating charm of some sort on them. Her nose and cheeks, on the other hand, were almost completely numb, and she was looking forward to stopping for some hot chocolate in the kitchens.

Before she reached the doors, Hermione noticed someone else was outside, too. As their paths came closer to crossing, she realized with astonishment that it was, in fact, Severus. She had hardly ever seen him outside before, let alone outside in the snow. But there he was, bundled up in his winter robes and a dark grey scarf, carrying two large bags.

If Hermione had known she was going to get so many chances to face him during her stay, she might've done a little extra Occlumency practice. As it was, she was just glad her cheeks were already red. Severus was staring at her again, and she felt her body start to warm up a tad. She put on her bravest smile and waved at him when their paths joined.

"Hello, sir," she greeted him cheerfully. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"What on earth were you doing?" Severus asked sharply, jerking his head toward the lake.

Hermione swallowed. Well, that was a little less than civil. She wondered if she'd done something to upset him.

"Um…ice skating?" she said uncertainly.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" he hissed, scowling. "There could have been thin ice, and I don't fancy having to brew you a Warmth Revival Solution."

Her cheeks felt even hotter now. Was he actually concerned for her? Or was that irritation with having to save a foolish student yet again? Hermione couldn't really tell, but she decided to reassure him anyway. It wouldn't help her get over her denial to always assume the worst.

"I-I checked with Hagrid to make sure it wasn't too thin," she said hastily. "And I stayed to the shallows, anyway."

Severus eyed her for a long moment, dragging out the silence. Hermione shifted from one foot to the other, hoping he would want to go inside soon. Her nose was in great danger of getting frostbite. She lifted the warm gloves to her face for a moment, hoping some of their warmth would rub off. It was only when she lowered her hands to her sides that she noticed that Severus was staring quite intently at her newly-gloved hands.

Hermione couldn't help but gape at him. His black eyes were shining and he was wearing that peculiar expression that she just couldn't figure out. But he was definitely looking at her gloves. Was it…possible? She'd come to the conclusion that it was possible for him to view her as a tolerable acquaintance, but would Severus really get her a gift?

It did make some sense, she supposed. Severus had been living at Hogwarts for years, so he was bound to pick up a few tabs with people. And if he ever had to interact with Loki, he certainly wasn't going to get anything for free. It would also make her feel better if it was Severus, because that meant Loki was letting in a professor, not just some random student. It also made sense that Loki would describe Severus as 'young' since Loki himself was about a million years old.

Also, Severus was very practical. He probably wouldn't get her something that wasn't useful, if he gave her a gift. The note would also make more sense. He tended to be very abrupt and to the point, not flowery or long-winded. And almost anyone else would've put an exclamation point at the end of 'Christmas' and signed the note, but he wouldn't. _And_ Severus was at the castle all the time—he could've slipped it in there anytime without having to travel far. Also, and this didn't matter much, she supposed, but it was a green ribbon. Who else would give her a green ribbon?

It made a lot more sense than Asher, or Harry, or Ron. But still. Would Severus actually get her a gift? It seemed so surreal. She'd never seen him participate in any holiday, or give anyone a gift. So if he had, that would suggest she was more than just tolerable, and more than just an acquaintance. Maybe she was a friend. Or maybe…more?

Hermione felt a rush of excitement go through her and bit her lip to keep from grinning at him when he met her eyes again.

"Yes, well," Severus purred, voice much less sharp now, "be sure to take such precautions every time you do so."

She nodded rapidly. "I will, sir."

They stood there in silence for another long moment in which Hermione no longer cared how cold she was. So she didn't know for absolutely sure if he'd given her the gloves—she couldn't help but hope, and she wanted to do something for him, even if it was something small. She looked over him quickly, looking for inspiration, which she found when she spied the bags he still held in his arms.

"I could carry one of those for you, sir," she offered eagerly.

Severus' lips twitched. "If you like," he said simply.

Hermione quickly crossed the distance between them and took the one from his left arm. His eyes flicked over her for what felt like the hundredth time and she fought the growing signs of desire tugging at her. He stepped to the side and gestured for her to precede him, as he seemed wont to do lately. She gave him what she hoped, but rather doubted, was a tame grin and strode off ahead of him.

While they walked in a companionable silence toward the door, Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from asking if he was the anonymous 'wooer' Loki had talked about. She had to wonder if Loki was just calling him a 'wooer' simply because he enjoyed making all relationships between men and women non-platonic, or if Severus was really…she pounced on the end of that thought and shoved it aside. Like Harry said, she shouldn't get her hopes up _too_ high.

When they reached the doors, Severus slipped past her and opened it for her again. And for the first time, Hermione was coherent enough to thank him. He merely nodded and walked next to her as they went down to his office. She couldn't help but sneak glances up at him, particularly when she felt the hair-raising, tingle-inducing, body-heating sensation of him watching her.

He was either extremely good at hiding it when he looked at her—which, now that she thought about it, made sense since he'd been a spy for years—or she was delusional. Again, she decided to go with the more positive one. She allowed herself a private smile and thanked him again when he opened his office door for her.

To her surprise, Severus led her through the office to one of two doors off of it. He opened this one as well and gestured her into his private lab. Although she'd never been inside before, he seemed to be taking it in stride, so she tried her best to do the same. Still, she couldn't help but look around.

The walls were empty, unlike his office walls, except for cupboards here and there. There was an island in the middle with two burners, a cutting board, and a folded leather apron. There were counters underneath the three cupboards, one of which seemed to be dedicated to books and notes, since it was simply covered in them. Everything was very well-kept and organized, it appeared. It also seemed very familiar somehow. She felt at home.

Hermione turned when she heard the door shut and smiled weakly at him. They were alone again, and this time it seemed a little less casual, since she didn't have an excuse to be there. Severus gazed at her for a long moment, then seemed to gather himself, and walked toward the first cupboard.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Where do you want me—" he whipped around, looking startled, and she fought to barrel on under his intense stare, "to put this?"

Apparently it was Severus' turn to clear his throat. He gestured to the counter next to him and began pulling ingredients out of the bag. She set it down carefully and waited uncomfortably. Should she go now or what?

"I-I could help put things away," she heard herself offer. "If you tell me where it goes."

Severus paused to eye her, lips twitching again. He dipped his head and pulled another jar out of the bag, handing it over.

"Put it on the third shelf of that cupboard," he instructed, gesturing to their left.

She smiled widely and nodded, heading over to where he said. After that, they worked mostly in comfortable silence, other than when he gave her instructions. They were almost to the bottom of the bags when Hermione worked up the courage to ask him something she'd been dying to know almost since she walked into his lab.

"So…do you still do a lot of potion-making now that you don't teach it anymore?" she prompted, passing a jar of fluxweed from one hand to the other.

She wasn't sure how well he'd receive her questions, since he hadn't liked them so much when she was still a student. Severus nodded once and pulled an empty jar out of his cupboard, replacing it with a brand new one.

"I believe it was last year that you made the observation that I do not enjoy teaching Potions," he said smoothly. "You were quite correct. I do, however, enjoy the activity itself. Besides that, I must keep stocked up for Madam Pomfrey's needs."

Hermione nodded when he looked at her and then hurried off to place the fluxweed in its rightful place. To her surprise, when she closed the cupboard door, he spoke again.

"I'm also in the process of developing a new potion," Severus explained, "and when inventing, one needs all the ingredients it is possible to get."

"That makes sense," she replied, voice matching the pleasant feeling that rose up inside her. "What are you making?"

She pulled another jar out of the bag as she asked, but he quickly snatched it away. She blinked and did a double-take, surprised. Severus set the jar carefully on the counter and met her confused gaze with a sigh.

"Infestus nocens," he told her, glancing at the little black creatures squirming in the jar. "Not so pleasant creatures when they aren't dormant."

"Oh. I-I've read about them," Hermione replied, feeling a blush coming on when his lips twitched. "They're used in healing draughts usually, aren't they?"

"Yes. Ironically, the ingredients that cause the most damage seem to be the most powerful in healing." His gaze flicked over her again before resting on her face once more. "I used up the last for Draco's healing potion."

She nodded and offered him a small smile. The dungeons were still cold, but it was better than being outside, and she felt much warmer now that she'd been inside for some time. She'd even been able to put her gloves in her pockets and unzipped her coat. She was getting a bit hungry now, though, and wished she'd gotten to have some hot chocolate.

Of course, nothing could make her regret coming in to help Severus. He seemed somehow more relaxed today. Well, actually, if she was truly honest, he'd seemed so much more relaxed with her ever since the end of sixth year. She'd just been too paranoid and in denial to really notice or appreciate it. Which was a shame, because she definitely liked him like this.

Severus shifted his stance, sighing. "Dinner will be served soon, and I'm sure Draco misses your company."

Hermione nodded hastily. She didn't want to overstay her welcome, especially if he truly did see her as a friend. She almost grinned again at the thought.

"Of course. Good evening, sir," she said politely, moving toward the door.

"I am developing a potion that will enable the drinker to dream without the burden of nightmares," he said suddenly.

She fought another smile as she turned about.

"That sounds difficult," she said sincerely. "I can't wait till you finish it."

Severus' eyes shone again. "Indeed. I will see you later on this evening."

Hermione nodded, smiled, and headed out the door with no interruptions this time. It wasn't until she made it to the stairs that she realized that meant he'd be coming to the party.

* * *

"How do I look?"

Draco looked up from _The Wise Wizard_ copy she'd left behind earlier and scanned Hermione. She turned in a circle for him, smiling when he nodded approvingly. She'd hoped the Muggle-wear wouldn't be too repulsive to him, and apparently it wasn't. Of course, that could've been because she was wearing a dark green blouse with her black skirt, and Draco was the biggest fan of Slytherin colors she'd ever met.

"Hot," he said simply. She blushed immediately. "What's the occasion?"

Hermione frowned. "Did I forget to tell you? Dumbledore invited us to the staff party tonight."

"Oh, really? That sucks because, I don't know if you remember or not, but I'm being trapped here by this insane nursemaid who thinks I can't walk even though it's only my magic that needs recovering," Draco replied sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. She won't mind a couple of hours."

"Have you _met_ Pomfrey?"

"Yes, I have," she said haughtily. "She's a very nice, understanding woman."

"Well—"

"Madam Pomfrey?!" Hermione called.

The woman came bustling out of her office automatically, as though she'd been sitting there waiting for this.

"What is it? Is everything all right?" Pomfrey asked concernedly.

"Yes, everything's fine," Hermione said pleasantly, smiling. "Draco and I wanted to ask you something."

She looked between them. "Well, what is it?"

"Professor Dumbledore invited us to the staff party tonight," she explained calmly. "So we were wondering if it would be all right if Draco came, at least for a couple of hours."

Madam Pomfrey's lips thinned. "He isn't fully recovered, you know. I'd rather he—"

Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione cut in immediately.

"I promise to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't use any magic," she assured her. "Besides, you'll be there, too, right? You can be sure he won't overdo it."

She heard Draco whisper, "Slytherin…", and squeezed his shoulder. Hard. Madam Pomfrey frowned, considering. Hermione waited patiently for her to make up her mind, certain she would get her way. Sure enough, Pomfrey sighed and dipped her head in a nod.

"All right. But only for the first _two_ hours," she said sternly. "And no Firewhisky, and I expect you to sit down as often as possible."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione replied sincerely.

"Yeah, thanks," Draco said, sounding half-pained, half-surprised.

Pomfrey turned back into her office and Hermione released Draco's shoulder, which he rubbed and pouted.

"That hurt," he whined.

"It did not," she replied, chuckling, "you silly Gryffindor. Now let's get you dressed and off to the Great Hall."

* * *

The party was already in full-swing by the time Hermione, Draco, and Madam Pomfrey arrived. Draco was still basking in the fact that he was wearing normal wizarding robes instead of his hospital gown, so he didn't notice anything unusual at first. Hermione, however, did right away. The teachers were drinking quite heavily, it appeared, and Professor Sinistra was ahead of the game, if her bawdy guffaws were any indication.

Dumbledore was wearing a party hat and blowing on a noisemaker (which apparently blew red sparks in the wizarding world) a little too enthusiastically for Hermione's taste. Flitwick was playing with a Wizard Wireless, trying to find appropriate music. The rest of them were just laughing, talking, and drinking. Emphasis on the drinking.

Except for McGonagall, who was standing to the side and merely sipping her drink, rather than chugging it. Hermione and Draco exchanged a disturbed glance and he headed off to the punch bowl. She decided against testing to see if it was spiked and instead made her way over to McGonagall.

"Happy New Year, Professor," Hermione greeted her.

McGonagall turned and gave a surprised smile. "And to you, Hermione."

"Thank you." She smiled and glanced at the teachers. "I had no idea my professors could be this…wild."

She laughed. "Well, the holidays are really the only time we get to unwind and have some fun. Some of us take it a bit too far, in my opinion, but we are only human, after all. I should expect you, of all people, to know that."

Hermione's brow furrowed, but before she could ask what that meant, Draco came over with his cup in hand.

"I think this is actually Firewhisky diluted with pumpkin juice," he observed, eyeing his cup warily. "Not the other way around. Evening, Professor McGonagall."

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy. Are you feeling any better?" she inquired, sounding truly interested. "Poppy tells me you're recovering quickly."

"It sure doesn't feel like it," Draco grumbled.

Hermione elbowed him lightly. "She let you come, didn't she?"

"Hey, Ginny would let me whine," he admonished, pouting.

"Do I _look_ like a redheaded fashion model?" she retorted.

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed, drawing both women's immediate attention. "Ginny wants to be a _Quidditch_ player. Sheesh." And then he took a drink.

Hermione and McGonagall exchanged an amused glance. Hermione was about to go back to people-watching when a fourth voice entered the conversation.

"Which, one would imagine, makes it more clear that you are not in the company of Miss Weasley," Severus purred from McGonagall's elbow, "since I suspect Miss Granger has rather different career plans."

"Oh, Severus," McGonagall greeted him, saving Draco from coming up with a response. "I was wondering when Albus would manage to pester you into coming."

"He made a compelling argument early this morning," he said vaguely, gaze flicking over the group.

Hermione felt a blush and a smile coming on, but she forced herself to remain calm. It didn't necessarily mean that's what he was talking about, just because of what happened that morning. Draco glanced down at her and she smiled up at him to assuage the concerned look on his face.

"Hello, Uncle," Draco said, nodding in that curt way men seemed to be born with.

Severus dipped his head in return. "Draco, Miss Granger."

Hermione tossed in her own nod, but somehow she felt like it wasn't quite as sharp as theirs. McGonagall smiled and took another sip of her drink as a short silence fell between the four of them. Hermione could appreciate the humor in the situation just as well as her master. The Head of Gryffindor and the Golden Girl of Gryffindor standing with the Head of Slytherin and the Sneaking Slytherin Head Boy—maybe they'd end up in the _Daily Prophet_.

"Enjoying your holiday?" Draco asked, voice stiff and cool, like it used to be with Hermione.

"Well enough," Severus grumbled.

They were silent again while the three with drinks took sips and the women exchanged amused glances. Hermione found herself wondering if this was what Severus and McGonagall did at every party, or if they would've talked more without Draco and herself there. She decided they would've said something or walked away if they minded the company.

"Draco, m'boy!" an unfortunately familiar voice bellowed.

Hermione groaned, but stopped when she realized she wasn't the only one. McGonagall had let out a small one of her own, Draco hadn't bothered to hide it, and Severus was pinching the bridge of his nose. She almost burst out laughing at the sight of them.

"Save me," Draco whispered as Slughorn came barreling toward them.

"We already discussed this," she whispered back. "I'm not your girlfriend."

"Draco, I'm so glad you've come!" Slughorn exclaimed, grabbing Draco's arm. "I was so sorry to hear about your family. I know contacts in the Ministry who might be able to make it easier for your mother, if you're interested…."

He began steering him off, and Draco shot Hermione a glare over his shoulder. She shrugged and turned back to the professors, both of whom were studying their cups rather busily. Maybe this was why the other teachers got drunk. It would be boring otherwise.

"Did you read the article Lillian had published in the _Owl Observer_?" McGonagall asked at last.

It really wasn't clear who she was asking until Severus answered. Hermione had read it, of course, but she wasn't sure she was allowed into this discussion.

"Yes, unfortunately," Severus hissed, sounding irritated.

"What did you think?" she inquired curiously. "She did bring up some good points…."

"The woman knows less about magic than Cornelius Fudge, the incontinent fool," he replied, giving a shake of the head. "And I wasn't aware that her puerile ramblings had any points, let alone one solid idea. Which, by the way, she never came to."

McGonagall sighed. "I thought the section on similarities between Arithmancy and Divination had its merits."

Severus scoffed, much the way Hermione wanted to. "That was the weakest point of the entire article. It was completely off whatever point she was attempting to make, and Arithmancy and Divination are entirely different subjects. The most that can be said about any true similarities is that people have written about them."

"They _do_ both predict future events, do they not?" McGonagall asked pointedly.

He rolled his eyes. "Why don't you ask Miss Granger? She's the Arithmancy expert."

McGonagall turned to look at the silent party and smiled kindly. Hermione shifted a bit uncomfortably and waited.

"Did you read the article, dear?" McGonagall asked.

She nodded. "Yes, of course, but—"

"Then what did you think?"

"Well…I thought she had an interesting introduction," Hermione allowed, clearing her throat. "But she lost her point somewhere along all the side trips to explanations about things that could simply be looked up in textbooks if one really wanted to know. I also have to agree with Professor Snape in that the Arithmancy and Divination section was not only irrelevant to the topic, but incorrect as well."

McGonagall glanced at Severus, who wore what looked like a triumphant smirk.

"How so?" the older witch prompted, rolling her eyes at Severus.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, it's true: they both predict the future. But Arithmancy has other uses beyond that, and it's based in fact and numbers, not guesswork and crystal balls. It's not dodgy and unpredictable, nor is it vague. Besides, as I said, it can give projections for the future, but that isn't its only use. In fact, it's not even its main use."

"Divination _is_ a ridiculous subject," McGonagall said irritably. "I will never understand why it's still taught. At least, as you say, Arithmancy is clear-cut."

"I think people like the feeling that the future is foreseeable," she replied bravely. "Fate is even a popular idea amongst Muggles. Which, of course, it would be nice to know that the future is set in stone and that you aren't responsible for the consequences of your own choices, but that's simply not how the world works."

"And yet some are more comfortable believing they are in control of their own lives," Severus added smoothly, eyeing her openly again.

"Those are the people who are afraid of the future being set, who want freedom," she said simply. "Or at least, that's my feeling about it."

"No, I agree," McGonagall put in, nodding.

"As do I. However, I also believe both sides are looking for freedom." Severus smirked in response to Hermione's smile, then went on. "The difference is the type of freedom. Those who believe in fate look for freedom from responsibility and from choice. Those who do not look for freedom to choose."

"Choice _is_ a frightening thing," she said, considering. "But I don't think I'd ever want my fate to be set in stone. I'd rather live with the aftermath of what I've done and know that it was my doing. Not some unknown cosmic powers toying with my life."

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but McGonagall interrupted before either of them could add to the discussion.

"I believe I need more punch," she told them. "Please, carry on."

She stepped out from between them and Hermione felt a fluttering of panic in the pit of her stomach. Severus took another sip of his drink and watched the party go on before them. Sinistra was now belting out some insensate song at the top of her lungs, while the rest of them either listened or continued blowing on their noisemakers. Dumbledore, in particular, seemed to be enjoying himself.

Severus cleared his throat and gestured. "Sadly, some of your life's choices are bound to be the result of a known power's meddling, since you live at Hogwarts and no one within these walls is safe."

She frowned, confused. "Whose meddling?"

"The Headmaster's," he said so flatly she burst out laughing.

Severus watched Hermione recover with that smirk and shining eyes again.

* * *

McGonagall didn't actually rejoin them for the rest of the evening, except once to ask how they were doing. Draco didn't even come talk to them. Hermione _was_ nearly crushed by a very drunk Hagrid at one point, but he went away when Dumbledore called him back to the game of Exploding Snap they were playing. Hermione didn't think it was a good idea for drunken people to play that game, but Severus assured her they did it every year with minimal injuries.

Draco ended up staying the entire night and even played the games with the professors. He and Drunk Madam Pince seemed to get along very well, although Hermione doubted that particular alliance would last through to the morning.

The rest of the night was, in short, amazingly lovely. Hermione and Severus talked through all five hours of the party, much like they did the year before. Except this time they didn't just talk about intellectual or magical things. They delved into the psychological (what drove certain people to believe in fate and others to shy away from it), the mundane (how they liked their tea), the dental (how charms only went so far when it came to cleaning teeth), the past (how Voldemort obtained his Horcruxes and why he chose those objects), etc.

At the end, Hermione felt invigorated and blissful, and she wondered why she'd ever decided to avoid him. And although Severus was his usual acerbic self, it wasn't actually directed toward her. In fact, most of the time he seemed to be trying to get her to laugh, which he succeeded at time and again. She was actually starting to feel comfortable with him and the idea that he may think of her as a friend when it reached midnight. And then Dumbledore announced it was time for the countdown and the kiss.

Severus and Hermione watched from their table as the staff members all paired up (Dumbledore with McGonagall, Filch with Pince, Flitwick with Hooch—surprisingly enough—, Firenze with Pomfrey, etc.) until only Binns and Draco were in need of a partner. Hermione wasn't even sure why Binns was there, since he couldn't kiss anyone anyway. Nor could he drink.

Draco raised his glass to the air and took a drink while all the teachers kissed cheeks after the countdown ended. Hermione fought her hardest not to look at Severus, but she felt his attention on her even more strongly than usual. She found herself crossing her legs repeatedly, trying to get comfortable with the heat burning through her skin.

When at last Hermione gave in and glanced at him, Severus was scowling. She thought to ask if he was all right, but his black eyes flicked directly onto hers and all she could do was offer a weak smile. He stared at her for a moment and looked away again, but that intense focus never left her. It wasn't the first time she wondered that night if Severus really could feel the same way about her.


	16. Seventh Year: Part Eight

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this.

**A/N:** I apologize again for my lateness, and for how short this chapter is. I hope the end makes up for it!

* * *

"Ugh. Don't talk so loud, please."

"I _told_ you not to drink last night, Mr. Malfoy. Now look at you. On top of everything else, I've got to get you a Hangover Cure Solution. Well—"

"Good morning," Hermione interrupted cheerfully.

Draco groaned and pressed his hand over his forehead.

"Not so loud…" he groaned.

She shot an amused glance at a very irritable Madam Pomfrey and pulled out her chair. After the kissing and noisemaker-blowing the night before, Hermione said good night to Severus and helped Pomfrey get Draco back to bed. Which took about a half hour in and of itself, because Drunk Draco rather enjoyed flopping over. At least Pomfrey had stayed sober enough to stand without help.

Severus' good night had been stiff and formal, but she supposed that could've been because Dumbledore had his arm wrapped around his shoulder. That was likely it, since Severus didn't seem very comfortable with physical contact. Particularly physical contact from an old man with alcohol on his breath and a pout on his face.

Come to think of it, Dumbledore had looked extremely put out when Hermione said good night to him. She'd wondered what that was about for almost two seconds before deciding that Drunk Dumbledore was probably even odder than Normal Dumbledore.

"Again, I told—" Madam Pomfrey began.

"Look, it's not my fault you people put ten gallons of Firewhisky in for every teaspoon of pumpkin juice," Draco barked, scowling up at her. "And—"

"Not that I don't _love_ listening to you two argue," Hermione cut in again, smirking at the sight of Draco's pout, "but don't you think it's a little early in the morning for this?"

"It's ten o'clock," Draco said flatly.

"Yes, I know. I meant early for you people who dunked their head in the punch bowl last night," she replied evenly.

He glared at her. "As opposed to the people who spent the entire evening socializing with someone who supposedly hates their guts."

"You didn't hear?" she asked, mock-surprised. "Turns out 'someone' isn't totally averse to those people."

"Oh, really? And how long did it take these people to figure that out?" Draco retorted sarcastically. "Was it two minutes or two years? I just can't remember…."

"You're cranky when you're hungover," Hermione informed him, shaking her head.

"I agree," Pomfrey said thinly, glowering at Draco. "I'll see to getting his Hangover Cure Solution—immediately."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," she said to the woman's retreating back. She nudged Draco. "Say thank you."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he called with a sneer.

"You could at least say it like you _kind of_ mean it," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"You're too cheerful," he said grouchily.

"I could be worse," Hermione assured him, shooting a grin his way.

He covered his eyes dramatically and cringed in his bed.

"No, don't unleash it on me! I beg of you!" he exclaimed, wincing when he finished. "I should never do that when hungover."

Hermione giggled and grinned at him. "Oh, you should, though! That was a nice little peek of the happier, friendlier Draco I'm used to now."

"I'll be happier when Dad and Mum's trials are over," he grumbled, folding his arms grumpily again.

"And probably when Ginny makes her daily visit, no?" she added coyly, smiling when she saw his lips contort as he fought a smile.

"The answer to that better be yes," said a familiar voice.

Draco couldn't fight it anymore: he burst out into a grin as soon as Ginny broke through the screen. Hermione smiled when they embraced happily, exchanging 'Happy New Year's…but then they started snogging and her smile faltered a bit. As happy as she was for them, she really didn't need to see that. She rose to give them some privacy, but just as she made it to the screen, she heard their lips smack as they separated.

"Oh, Hermione! Don't go yet!" Ginny exclaimed, bounding over to her. "I have something for you!"

"Oh, you do, do you?" Hermione smirked, but it occurred to her that Mrs. Weasley hadn't wrapped her in a hug yet. "Where is everyone?"

"Mum and Dad are talking to Dumbledore," she said dismissively, "and Harry went to see Hagrid. But I realized the other day that I forgot to pack this along with the rest of your things."

Ginny pulled something carefully out of her bag and presented it to Hermione as though she were giving her an award. Hermione gasped when she realized what it was—in all the excitement surrounding Draco's predicament, she'd completely forgotten her music box! She accepted it gratefully and wrapped Ginny in a one-armed hug.

"Thank you so much," she said warmly.

"What is it?" Draco asked curiously, trying to peer around Ginny.

Hermione noted with some amusement that his voice was much less sour now that Ginny had arrived.

"Just my music box," she replied, shrugging. "But I believe you two would like some time alone. Since, if I know Ginny—and I think I just might—, she managed to manipulate both parents and Harry into visiting with a few other people so she could get a little privacy. Am I correct?"

Ginny grinned unabashedly. "You know me far too well."

Hermione smirked. "Well, just to warn you, you'll have to watch out for Madam Pomfrey. She'll be back with Draco's Ha—" he made throat-slashing motions frantically, so she feigned a cough and went on, "that is, his potions. Soon."

"Oh. Thanks for letting me know."

"Not a problem."

Draco mouthed 'thank you' from behind Ginny and Hermione shot him a grin before rippling her fingers at them and heading toward the doors.

* * *

Severus stalked down the corridor toward his dungeons, hoping to find refuge in his quarters. He'd spent the entire morning dodging Dumbledore and Minerva and their probing. Now the Weasleys were here, and he had to do even more dodging. After Molly tried to stuff a muffin down his throat, the two had gone on and on about how wonderful it was that he'd saved his godson. Which, by itself, would've been uncomfortable, but at least tolerable, since they tended to gush about how he'd been a spy, as well.

But Molly kept inserting comments like, "It was so nice of you to keep in touch with Hermione, too." And Arthur kept saying things like, "Hermione is a very bright young witch, you know." And then Dumbledore would chuckle and add, "Oh, I think Severus knows that very well. He just won't admit it." And then he would _twinkle_. And Minerva would put in a chorus of, "He and Hermione got along quite well last night," followed by a verse of "Oh, did they?" from Molly.

Bastards.

Firstly, of _course_ Severus knew Hermione was very bright. It was a little hard to miss. Who had raised her hand every single time he asked a question for the last six years? Who had never gotten anything less than an Outstanding in his class? (Honestly, how often did that happen?) Who had carried on three, sometimes four and five, hour conversations about magical theory with him every Friday for four months? And who had figured out everything her doltish friend needed to know to save the day, even when she was hindered by being Petrified?

The only thing Hermione wasn't smart about, as far as he could tell, was who she chose for friends. Longbottom was a helpless mess who could barely tie his shoes before she offered her aid. Weasley was a temperamental little shit. Miss Weasley was a nosy, loud-mouthed chit. Miss Lovegood was…well, insane. There was really no other word for her. And Potter? Enough said.

Secondly, what right did that group of twinkling, starchy, infantile, overbearing idiots have to try and shove him and Hermione together? He was an adult. He could make decisions about his life perfectly well without their meddling and hinting and carrying on like housewives in a beauty parlor. Besides, Hermione was waiting patiently for his answer, and he saw no reason to change that now by informing her of his intentions and then forcing her to wait another five months with that knowledge.

Those twits didn't seem to realize that Hermione was still off-limits to him, anyway. She may not have been a student technically, but in the eyes of the public, she was. It would not look good for Dumbledore or Hogwarts if one of their professors began courting an apprentice there. Nor would it look good for himself or Hermione.

In fact, Hermione was in for reputation-battering whether she was with him now or in five months. Despite the announcement that he was spy for the Order, not for the Dark Lord, Severus was still seen as a suspicious person to many wizards. Beyond that, his disposition didn't often lead to lifelong friendships and amiable partings. Which was part of why he was giving Hermione this time to change her mind. Not that he was doing much to try and help that process along. There was only so much nobility he could be expected to display, after all.

Hermione seemed to be doing the opposite, anyway. Rather than avoiding him and stuttering so badly he could barely understand her, she seemed to be settling with the idea that he knew about her feelings for him. She didn't speak to him unless he spoke first—the day she came to his private labs being the obvious exception—but, when she did speak, she was calmer than she used to be. More like when they spent Friday evenings in discussion.

In fact, almost better. She was braver now, he'd noticed, almost as though she'd gotten an inkling that he wasn't completely disgusted by her (a bit of an understatement, but progress, at least). Now she brought up new topics that had previously remained untapped in favor of keeping things professional and only discussing academics. Not that he didn't enjoy the intellectual conversation—she'd quickly become his favorite discussion partner the previous year—but it was just as pleasant to have her open up and share her opinions on other topics.

Severus only wished that ridiculous tradition of counting down and kissing hadn't interrupted their conversation the previous night. It pulled his attention away from their discussion and forced him to brood over the rather frustrating fact that he had five months left before he could kiss her. Or anything else.

_And_ he wished that Dumbledore, Minerva, Molly, and Arthur would mind their own business. He already wanted to be with Hermione. He didn't need their input.

Severus was interrupted from his musings by the echo of a pleasant little tune from down the hallway. He scowled to himself when he realized it was probably one of the ignoramuses that stayed at school over the holidays. And they were probably doing something stupid again, as they were wont to do. He'd already caught two Ravenclaws breaking at least twenty school rules that morning.

He huffed and quickened his pace, glancing into the rooms as he went by. The music kept stopping and restarting, which he found rather annoying, but now it picked up again and kept playing. He slowed his steps as he came closer and finally reached the room from which the music was emanating. He glanced in and, instead of one of his Neanderthal students doing something mischievous, he found Hermione, seated at a desk and holding a light blue music box.

She didn't notice him right away, so Severus took a moment to simply observe. From the look on her face, whatever she was doing was rather serious, although he didn't see how it could be, since she was staring at a spinning ballerina in a music box. Not deciphering an ancient rune or attempting to cheat death or even reading. Although she _did_ have her 'reading' face on, otherwise known as her 'concentration' face. Every once in a while she would bite her lower lip, but mostly this face consisted of furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

Severus frowned slightly. He didn't like it when he couldn't figure out what she was doing, but he supposed he would just have to find out for himself. So he stepped further into the room, keeping his footfalls quiet, and coached his expression to be sterner.

"Neglecting your duties to Draco, Miss Granger?" he asked smoothly.

Hermione whipped around, her hand leaving the music box just as it turned off. Her usual expression of anxious surprise arose when she saw him standing there, only to be masked over by the calm façade she'd built during her Occlumency lessons the year before. She still hadn't quite mastered it, although he would never tell her that. He enjoyed the fire in her eyes far too much to ruin his chances of seeing it again.

Right now, those eyes were shining at him with what he now recognized as excitement. Severus arched his brow to remind her to speak—that often worked, he found. It seemed to nudge her mind back into gear after its brief shock. And it worked again this time, apparently, for she took a breath, mouth curving a bit.

"Oh, no. Ginny's with him right now," Hermione explained, raising her eyebrows meaningfully as she continued. "They wanted a little…eh, alone time."

Severus gazed blankly at her for a moment, running images of Draco and Miss Weasley through his mind for a moment to quell the images of Hermione. That disgusted him enough that he was able to take a breath and move on.

"I see." He stepped around in front of her, so she wouldn't have to crane her neck, and eyed the music box. "And what are you occupying yourself with in the meantime?"

Hermione's mouth curved all the more and her eyes lit up, though she belatedly tried to hide it. She stroked the music box, almost affectionately, and a few notes played before she took her hands away.

"I-I was just thinking about something my mother said when she gave this to me," she managed, forcing her hands down into her lap when she realized she was fidgeting.

Severus arched a brow again. "And what was that?"

"That I…I'm exactly who I should be," she said quietly, avoiding his eyes.

"Of course you are. Did someone suggest otherwise?" he retorted, unable to keep the slight edge of irritation out of his voice.

Hermione looked up at him, surprise plain on her face. She reddened a moment afterward and bowed her head again, shifting in her chair.

"Well…not really…someone. I just…." She cleared her throat. "I was having a bit of a…a personal issue over the holidays."

Ah. Severus could understand that, at least. He'd had quite a few 'personal issues' in the past himself. Of course, not without reason. Hermione didn't have a reason to doubt who she was, as far as he was concerned, but he could understand insecurity.

"Mum helped me with it," Hermione continued softly, staring at the music box now. "And so did this."

He couldn't help but arch a brow again. "And how did a music box help you to see that you are who you should be?"

She smiled, almost sentimentally, and met his eyes.

"Well…the first time I displayed magic was on this music box," she said happily. "It's actually broken. See?"

She cranked the golden screw on the side and sat back. The ballerina stayed still, and none of the notes of before emerged from it. Severus' brow arched of its own accord this time and he pulled a chair over to sit across from her.

"And how did you make it play?" he inquired interestedly.

Hermione smiled wryly. "I don't actually know. It was my mum's at the time, and I just wanted to hear it play. It was already broken, but, you know, ten year olds are prone to do silly things. I tried it out and when I touched it, it worked again."

Severus nodded. "And now?"

She blushed, realizing. "Oh. Well, I don't know. Just the same thing, I guess."

She lifted her hands from her lap and pressed her finger pads lightly against the side of it. She bit her lip, narrowing her eyes in concentration, and the blue-clad ballerina began to spin. The music flowed out of it, lulling them with its gentle tune. Severus eyed Hermione for a long moment before speaking.

"This is not exactly the same," he told her seriously.

Hermione lifted her hand from the box and it ceased playing immediately. Severus nearly winced at the off-key note it ended on, but returned his focus easily back to her. She gazed at him with a furrowed brow.

"What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"When you were ten, your magic was uncontrolled," he explained evenly. "It was bound to affect objects around you without your consent. Now, on the other hand, both your schooling and our lessons from last year have taught you complete control, which means that you are performing wandless magic."

She gaped at him. He held her gaze for as long as it took, watching as her mouth opened and closed. She finally exhaled heavily and looked away, shaking her head.

"But that's not possible," she said at last. "I thought only highly trained wizards and witches could perform wandless magic. It takes experience, and training, an-and—"

"And you are an apprentice to three masters in what should be your seventh year of schooling," Severus interrupted calmly. "Does that tell you nothing about the levels of your talent?"

Hermione stared at him, caught between a blush and a gape. He fought the oncoming smirk, but he felt his lips twitch anyway. She cleared her throat and shifted in her chair again, looking away. It amazed him how modest she was, not to mention how determined—she was still trying to find a way to argue her point. He could tell just by the look on her face. So he decided to change the topic.

"I take it this figure was the inspiration for your Yule Ball attire," he said abruptly, gesturing to the ballerina.

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, clearly startled. Severus fought another smirk. He didn't think he would enjoy startling her half as much as he did if it wasn't the only totally unguarded expression she allowed herself around him.

She cleared her throat and chuckled a little. "Um…I never really thought about that…. But I guess, maybe subconsciously." Then she paused. "Wait, you noticed what I was—" she blushed. "Never mind."

Another smirk went to rise again, and he felt his lips twitch. It used to bother him how he could barely control himself around her—she always made him want to smile, or do…other things—but he'd long since learned to accept it. He was sure it hadn't hurt to find out how she felt about him.

Speaking of other things…Severus found his eyes were traveling over her again in that rather dangerous manner. She was staring seriously at her music box, apparently unaware of his gaze. Satisfied that she was distracted, he allowed his gaze to sate its need to explore the visual delights Hermione so aptly supplied. That meant it would be time to leave soon, unfortunately, but he could only keep a hold on himself for so long in her company.

He was just allowing his eyes to linger on a strand of brown hair curling around her naked neck when he noted that she was peering at him curiously again, much as she had a few nights ago when she caught him at it before. He gradually stood, just catching the flicker of disappointment wash over her features.

"I have business to tend to," Severus explained. It also used to bother him that he felt the need to explain himself to her, but, again, he'd learned to accept it. "In the meantime, I suggest you practice your wandless magic. It may prove to be a useful skill."

Hermione nodded, giving him that easy smile he enjoyed seeing.

"Yes, sir," she replied, missing the grimace he felt overtake him at that formal word.

He dipped his head. "Good day, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded again and Severus swept out as quickly as he could while still maintaining his dignity. If only he could skip the next five months….

* * *

The next day passed uneventfully, as everyone was preparing for students to arrive again. The Weasleys were unable to visit, since they were all packing and making sure everything was set, as well. So it was just Hermione and Draco, the whole day, which didn't bother her since he'd recovered from his grouchy hangover mood.

The day the students all arrived, however, was completely hectic. Draco was supposed to be out of the hospital soon, but tons of well-wishing Slytherins came to visit him anyway. Most of them were from the younger years, since Draco's recent choices had put off some of the older ones. The first years, especially, were excited to see that he was on the mend, and they were friendly toward Hermione whenever she was there.

She spent most of the day catching up with Neville and Luna, and helping Harry unpack. Ginny threw her luggage in her room and went straight to Draco's bedside to relieve Hermione of her duties. Ron was in the boys' dormitory when Hermione and Harry entered, but he didn't speak to either of them. Hermione made a point of ignoring him as well, and they developed an unspoken agreement—neither of them would acknowledge the other's existence.

Fortunately, Harry, unlike past arguments, didn't seem to mind this time. He wasn't torn between the two of them and, in fact, snubbed Ron as well. Once they finished unpacking, Hermione, Harry, and Neville met up with Luna in the entrance hall and walked around, trading holiday stories. Eventually Harry and Luna went off on their own, desperate for some time alone, so she was left strolling the halls with Neville.

Which wasn't really a problem until they ran into Severus. No matter how blasé Neville was about Hermione's love for Severus, he still couldn't handle the man himself. He blanched and started shifting uncomfortably as soon as they met him in the hallway. Severus, on the other hand, shot an annoyed glance at Hermione's companion and bid her good day before taking off. Hermione nearly burst with happiness, but she directed the energy to calming Neville down instead.

It was also a problem when they ran into Asher, since Neville's version of protecting her from the awkwardness of seeing him again—she'd had to explain the entire debacle to Luna, Harry, and Neville when the continuance of tutoring came up—was apparently to see him coming and hurry off like the devil (or, in Neville's case, Severus) was after him.

Asher wouldn't meet Hermione's eyes directly, and that ever-present smile faded as soon as he saw her. His friends spied her and immediately started scowling as well, but they took off with glowers shot in her direction after Asher murmured something to them. He approached her with sidesteps, keeping his head down and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Hermione sighed and closed the distance between them when she realized he was only going to shift at her.

"Hi," she said quietly, maintaining a small, friendly smile.

"Hi," he managed.

There was a long silence. She didn't really know what to say that she hadn't already said. She wanted to be his friend, but there was nothing she could do about it if he wasn't comfortable with that. She thought to ask if they were still going to do tutoring, but that would probably just upset him more. Really, there was nothing she could say.

Hermione frowned. She hated it when there was nothing to say.

"You don't have to tutor me or anything this semester," Asher blurted.

And before she could say anything, he took off down the hallway. Hermione sighed heavily. She supposed it _had_ been too much to hope for, but still. It hurt to lose both Ron and Asher, and it was only the third of January. How many more friends would she lose this year?

* * *

The rest of the week was busy, but not as horribly hectic as she'd made it before the holidays. Harry was constantly at Hermione's side now, making sure she ate well and slept regularly, despite her assurances that she was fine now. But he was convinced she needed a babysitter, apparently. Luna was absolutely no help in that department—she just stuck around _with_ Harry, and gave Hermione advice from _The Quibbler_.

Hermione only saw Severus at mealtimes or passing in the hallway, but she was ecstatic to find that he would nod to her each and every time he saw her. And if he was close enough, he would bid her good day. It wasn't much, but it was enough to tide her over.

Ginny and Draco were in their own little world for the rest of the week, especially when Madam Pomfrey finally released him from the hospital wing. Hermione swore they were nowhere to be seen for at least seven hours after that. Draco was sad to have emerged at the end of the week, and Harry was sorry he ever convinced Hermione to stop working so hard.

This was due in whole to the fact that Hermione was traumatized to realize that she hadn't been helping her friends with their upcoming N.E.W.T.s and the study schedules they would need. She spent the next day and a half coming up with schedules for Harry, Draco, and Neville. She almost did one for Ron before she remembered that that wasn't necessary anymore.

It was Monday evening when Hermione came sauntering up to the group where they were gathered in one of the study halls. She wasn't sure how much studying was actually taking place, seeing as Draco and Ginny were wrapped around each other and Harry and Luna were doing something similar. At least Neville was looking at his book, although his ears were so red he probably wasn't even taking anything in.

Hermione couldn't help a grin as she bounced up to them. Not only did she have their study schedules done, but she'd gotten great news from her masters early that morning. It was a lovely day.

"Hello, everyone!" she said excitedly.

The two couples broke apart with a jump and Harry wiped his red lips with his sleeve.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" he gasped, shaking his head at her. "I thought you were McGonagall or somebody!"

She chuckled. "Nope, it's good news this time. Guess what I have for you guys!"

She waved the color-coded sheets as a hint and Harry automatically paled. The rest of them just looked confused.

"Oh, no. Those aren't what I think they are, are they?" Harry asked apprehensively.

Ginny started. "Are those…oh, my God, you guys. Hermione's back!"

She bent over with laughter and Luna even chuckled. Neville and Draco exchanged confused glances, while Harry just stared at the parchment, looking a little sick. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"They're N.E.W.T. study schedules!" she exclaimed, handing one to each of the boys. "I made sure to check out all of your classes and extra curricular activities while I made these, so you'll have time for everything and still be ready for N.E.W.T.s." She grinned.

"Hermione, N.E.W.T.s are five months away," Neville choked, holding his sheet as though it were going to leap out and bite him.

"And I _should've_ had your study schedules done _months_ ago!" she replied, shaking her head. "I apologize for not being more on top of things."

"Can you…be more on top of other things?" Draco squeaked.

Ginny and Luna were too busy laughing to say anything.

Hermione smiled. "And guess what?"

All three boys winced, but Harry was the brave one.

"You're going to give us color-coded schedules for the rest of our lives?" he offered.

She rolled her eyes. "No! I got my masters projects today!"

Ginny sobered enough to smile and say, "Oh, that's so great! What are they?"

"Well, Charms is just making a new spell," Hermione began, shrugging. "Which is fairly simple, if you ask me. Arithmancy is predicting a future event."

"That sounds kind of easy," Ginny replied, frowning.

"Yeah, I thought so, too, especially when I looked at the example equation," she replied, frowning as she pulled out the parchment with the example on it.

She showed it to the rest of them, who all leaned in and squinted their eyes tight just to read the tiny print. Draco was the first to pull back.

"Yeah, that is easy," he commented. Everyone stared, so he amended it with, "For _her_."

They all nodded in understanding and went back to staring at Hermione.

"What's Transfigurations'?" Neville asked curiously.

"McGonagall actually gave me three projects," Hermione replied excitedly.

"_Three_?!" everyone but Luna exclaimed.

"That's insane!" Harry added.

Hermione shrugged. "Not really. Actually, it's three _options_. I'm just doing all three."

"You are not!" he retorted immediately.

"I am, too," she replied sharply, scowling. "And you can't tell me what to do."

"Hermione, you are not doing _three_ projects and working yourself to death again," Harry insisted, shaking his head. "It's too much."

"It is not. I can take three at once," she said firmly, folding her arms.

"Oh, you can take three at once, along with the other two. Making five?" he snapped.

The other four looked between them anxiously.

"Harry, it's fine. I _said_ the other two were easy."

"Sorry, but it's not happening. I forbid you to take that much on yourself."

"You forbid me?"

"That's right."

"You can't forbid me."

"I can, too. You're only doing one."

"I'm doing three, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"One."

"Three."

"One."

"Three."

"_One_."

"_Three_!"

"Okay!" Ginny exclaimed, chuckling nervously. "Let's just calm down here, everyone. Um…Hermione, why don't you tell us what the three options actually are?"

Hermione shot a glower at Harry, but nodded. "Fine. Number one is achieving my Animagus form."

"Doesn't that take years?" Neville asked tentatively.

"If the Marauders could do it, so can I," she replied, nodding confidently. "Besides, even if I don't achieve it by the end of the year, the other two will be back-ups. And I can keep working on it because I'll be a Transfigurations Mistress."

"You're not doing that one. It's too hard," Harry mumbled.

Luna was too busy stroking his hair to notice that he was being an arse, Hermione decided. She glared at him again.

"The second one is creating a new spell," she continued stiffly.

"That sounds also hard," Ginny commented.

"And the third one is improving an existing spell," Hermione concluded. "Which is the easiest one."

"Why don't you do that one?" Harry suggested brightly.

"Because. It's. Easy." She scowled. "Don't you know me at all?"

"She has a point," Draco said, before Harry could retort.

"Yeah. Since when has Hermione ever done anything the easy way?" Neville added, shaking his head.

"That's true. I mean, look at who she fell in love with," Ginny said soberly. "That's the least easy relationship I've ever seen. I mean, besides maybe…nope, can't think of one."

Hermione rolled her eyes, as did Harry.

"Why doesn't Hermione just do two of them?" Luna suggested suddenly. "Then you'll both be happy."

"Great idea!" Ginny agreed.

"How about two and three?" Harry said immediately.

"No," Hermione replied firmly.

"Then one and three."

"No, if I'm only going to do two, I'm not doing number three at all," she retorted sharply.

"You are the most stubborn person I have ever met!" Harry grumped, leaning into Luna's comforting embrace.

"Hey! Yeah, you are!" Draco said excitedly.

Hermione scowled. "Yeah. Thanks for that."

"No, no! Really!" he said earnestly. "Don't you get it? It just makes more and more sense all the time for you and Snape to be together!"

"Huh?"

"Oh, you're right!" Ginny exclaimed. "They're _both_ stubborn as all hell!"

"How does that make them well-suited?" Neville asked, confused.

"Because the make-up sex will be _awesome_," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "Hel-lo."

"You guys…talk about this?" Hermione asked uncomfortably.

"All the time," Ginny replied happily.

Hermione looked desperately to the rest of them, hoping at least Neville would shake his head. But they all just gazed up at her with half-smiles and waited for her to speak. She didn't know how comfortable she was with her friends discussing how well-suited she was to Severus. Actually, she did know how comfortable she was with that: not at all.

"Okay then. Awkward dial rising," she muttered, then sighed. "I'd best be off to the library. I need to read as much as I can about Animaguses if I'm going to try it." Her smile returned at the thought of doing something academic.

"Didn't you read as much as you could about Animaguses _and_ werewolves in third year?" Harry asked pointedly.

She frowned. "It never hurts to re-read. Besides, now I have access to the restricted section."

Hermione flashed a smile at them and strode off to the library with a happy hum.

* * *

"Is it just me, or does she get more insane every day?" Harry asked, shaking his head as he peered at his schedule.

Ginny muffled a chuckle. "Let's see what she put for your schedule."

She snatched Draco's from his and scanned the sheet, tapping her chin as she went.

"Wow. Two hours of Luna time on my sheet," Harry commented with a little grin.

"Really? She gave me three hours with Ginny," Draco said curiously.

"What?! No way! You've only been her friend for a few months and _you're_ the one who gets more time with his girlfriend?"

"I only got an hour of free time," Neville muttered glumly.

"I guess I'm just a better student than you, Potter," Draco replied smugly.

"It's true," Ginny interrupted calmly. "Draco does get better grades than either of you."

Luna patted Harry's back. "Don't worry. We'll make the most of it."

He smiled at her briefly, then went back to scanning his schedule.

"Hey! She didn't leave any room for Quidditch practice in here!" he exclaimed, running through the sheet again.

"But…you're the captain," Neville said slowly, brow furrowed. "It's kind of important for you to go."

"Oh, yes, she did," Luna interrupted, pointing to a small red space on the schedule. "See?"

Harry squinted at it. "It's only an hour. I can't only have hour long Quidditch practices! I'm gonna have to talk to her about this." He groaned.

Draco scowled at his green space. "So am I. I may not be the Seeker anymore, but I'm captain, too, now."

"She only gave me ten minutes for my bedtime ritual," Neville commented absently.

The rest of them exchanged glances, then burst into laughter. It was just like Hermione to put something that ridiculously trivial on a schedule sheet.

"Oh, I'm glad she's back to normal." Ginny giggled. "Although I'm surprised she didn't break it up into sections. Brush teeth, put on pjs…."

She and Luna exchanged grins, while Neville frowned at them.

"Well, laugh now, but next year she's going to be on _your_ cases," he said haughtily.

Draco patted Ginny's back when her expression turned to horror. Harry gave Luna a one-armed hug, although Luna looked much less disturbed about this information.

"Oh, God, you're right!" Ginny exclaimed. "And she's probably going to send me weekly packages with study tips, academic articles, an-and magazines with tips about how to stay sexually healthy!"

Draco kissed her cheek comfortingly, but the rest of them laughed again, totally unaware that they were quickly drawing the attention of an authority figure. Ginny managed a weak smile when Draco nudged her, grinning.

"It appears that certain students do not have enough assignments to keep them from disturbing everyone around them. Someone should correct that oversight."

The five of them stared up at Snape with wide eyes, quickly going into panic mode. He arched a brow at them and Neville shuddered behind his Herbology book. The rest of them exchanged anxious glances, searching for some way to get out of even more homework than they already had. Harry glanced irritably at something that kept moving in his peripheral vision, then started. Draco's schedule was bouncing up and down in Ginny's hand as she tapped it on her knee. That was it!

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, making the other four jump in their seats.

Snape's scowl deepened and he folded his arms, waiting expectantly for an explanation.

"She already took care of it," Harry explained, handing over his N.E.W.T. study schedule. "See?"

Snape snatched it from Harry's hand and began scrutinizing the sheet as closely as he used to examine their potions. Luna kissed Harry's cheek and he grinned at her. Draco was nodding approvingly, while Ginny mouthed, 'Great thinking!' Neville even peeked out from behind his book briefly.

Harry glanced nervously up at Snape when he saw he was nearing the end of the sheet. At long last, Snape took a breath and handed the sheet back to him, keeping his scowl firmly in place. Still…there was something about his expression that had changed…. Harry peered at him curiously, but before he could try to decipher it, Snape turned his glower full-force onto him and spoke.

"Very well. Continue," Snape said simply, and then promptly swept away.

Neville slowly lowered his book while the rest of them stared, open-mouthed, after their terrifying professor.

"Did that really just happen?" Neville asked quietly, as though afraid if he broke the silence it would shatter and all have been a dream. "Did Snape just let us go without taking off _any_ points?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "I-I think it did."

Draco was suddenly grinning. "I think you've discovered the secret key to a new world, my dear Gryffin-dorks."

Ginny smacked his arm playfully, but Harry peered at him curiously.

"What secret key?" he asked, absently rubbing Luna's back.

Draco shrugged. "Hermione."

* * *

It was rare that Severus had reason to venture into the library, but occasionally there would be a volume he didn't have, or a reference he'd forgotten. So he found himself wandering through the dimly lit stacks, having successfully escaped Pince's probing questions. The woman always felt it necessary to interrogate him every time he passed through her doors, which he found most irritating, especially when he was in a hurry.

Tonight, he was in no hurry, but it was still annoying to have to go through all that to get one book. He passed down one of the rows, running his fingers over the bindings as he peered at titles. He finally reached the one he was looking for when he heard a soft groan from beside him. A glance ascertained that someone had fallen asleep on a pile of books, and a closer look found that it was Hermione.

Severus stepped closer immediately, getting a better look at her sleeping form. She looked entirely at peace, as though she hadn't a care in the world. He hadn't seen that look on her face in a long time, even since her newfound confidence made its appearance. Hermione shifted in her sleep and he moved a book off of her right hand, which she'd apparently been grabbing when she fell asleep. Her ink was dangerously close to being knocked over, so he took the quill from underneath her hair and set that and the ink pot aside.

Severus allowed himself a moment longer to stand over her and listen to her deep, slow breaths. It was most comforting to hear. He'd hoped she wouldn't work herself too hard once the school year began again, and it mostly appeared that she wasn't. Minerva informed him Hermione wasn't pushing herself quite so hard in their practices together. Still, it wasn't a good sign that she was passed out in the library. He wondered why Potter hadn't seen her to bed.

Each time Severus saw her of late, it was with the Annoying One. He was like a constant guardian, making sure she came to meals and got enough sleep. Severus was loath to admit it, but he was—for the second time in his life-span—jealous of a Potter. It was awfully discomfiting, watching the two of them together. Of course, Potter spent an inordinate amount of time with Miss Lovegood, as well, and seemed just as comfortable with her as with Hermione. If not more so.

Severus just wished he knew for sure how she felt about Potter. A little voice whispered to him that he _could_ know. Hermione was asleep, her defenses would be lowered. So lowered that he wouldn't need eye contact. He tried to brush the thought aside—that would certainly be an invasion. But there was so much he didn't know, and felt he _needed_ to know.

So, with a guilty sigh, Severus focused on Hermione's sleeping form and thought, 'Legillimens.' He was plunged easily into her mind and pressed away from the dreams trying to suck him in, instead focusing on finding memories from the past year. Her summer was apparently long and boring, uneventful except for receiving her N.E.W.T.s and running into him at the bookstore, both of which were memories that popped up quite easily. There was the memory of her sneaking into his office to return his Potions book, which was mostly filled with feelings of anxiousness.

Soon the memory of her odd meeting with Asher Twiddlorf rose, but was quickly replaced by when she saw Severus in the Great Hall. Her sorrow and longing plunged around him and then swept away as she was filled with determination. Apparently the moment when she'd decided she needed to work as hard as possible, to keep him out of her mind. She barely saw her friends, or at least didn't have many powerful memories of them, Severus discovered. And the memories of him were few and far between, as well.

There were a few of Miss Weasley and Draco's observed closeness, as well as the shocking memory of Twiddlorf's affections for her. None of these lasted very long, as they didn't seem to be quite as strong as some of the others he'd found.

Then he found two very strong memories, close to one another. The first was the moment her mother gave her the music box. There were so many emotions in this he could hardly identify them all before he was pushed into the next. In this one, Hermione was wrapped in Potter's embrace, resting against him. She was exhausted: mentally, emotionally, physically. She was completely drained. Potter kissed the top of her head and then Weasley appeared, bearing biscuits. Her amusement rose, in spite of her apparent distress, but she remained glued to Potter.

Severus felt a peak of jealousy and, in answer, Hermione's brain sucked him into the dream she was currently having. To his everlasting shock, he saw himself lying on top of her. Or, rather, hovering atop her. Her back arched into his thrusts, rising off of a green settee, and their mouths met in a battle of tongues. The dream shifted and focused on his hand, rubbing down her thigh as he rose up inside of her. The intense pleasure this dream gave her was obvious, and Severus felt jealousy melting away to desire.

The dream-him was now nibbling at her ear and Hermione's nails dug into his back, arching up against him again. Silk sheets he hadn't noticed before were pressed between them and dream-him pulled them down with the hand that wasn't holding him up to caress her breasts. Severus saw her lips move and focused on that little detail of the dream, and he just heard her murmur, "Oh, Severus," when he was ejected from her brain.

It took him a moment to regain his bearings. After all, he'd just been inside Hermione's mind, watching himself do things to her that he himself had only dreamed of. When he finally did regain his bearings, Severus found that the reason for his ejection was that she was slowly waking up. She blinked blearily at him and smiled lazily. He barely had time to register that he'd somehow ended up kneeling next to her before she caressed his cheek with a practiced hand.

"Why'd you stop?" Hermione asked, practically moaning the words.

Before he could let her know that this was not still her dream, Hermione leaned forward and kissed him. And his dreams had underestimated her. Her tongue slid along his lips and curled into his mouth, exploring and tasting him and sending electricity throughout his body. Her hands gripped at the sides of his head, fingers burying themselves in his hair, and her lips worked over his like magic. Severus could never remember being this aroused before, and he felt himself starting to give in to her. It certainly wasn't _his_ self-control that saved them from desecrating the library.

Hermione pulled back suddenly, eyes wide. It took Severus a moment to realize that she was staring at him in horror, apparently just realizing that this was, in fact, real.


	17. Seventh Year: Part Nine

**Disclaimer:** If you want to donate money to me so I can buy this and own it, that'd be nice. But currently, I got nothing.

* * *

Hermione slowly released him, as though afraid any sudden movement would unleash his anger. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly and Severus could see the panic plain in her eyes. She hated that she couldn't think of anything to say, he knew, but, frankly, he couldn't either. Of course, he didn't _want_ anything to be said.

Every bit of blood in his body had rushed to somewhere around his pants and it was all he could do not to snatch her up and carry her down to his quarters. Boundless amounts of self-control and discipline built up as his years as a spy were going into the effort of restraining himself. No matter how fantastic it had been, he could not break. He wouldn't.

He'd promised Hermione a year, and besides, he had her reputation to consider. How well-received would she be on her first interview for a job if she'd dated her professor? He attempted to calm his racing heart and quell his excitement with that thought, but apparently he was simply a bad man. Which wasn't all that surprising, actually.

Hermione was currently running her hands over her beet red cheeks and neck, trying to rub the color away. She was probably too far into her state of horror to notice that Severus hadn't moved from where he knelt beside her.

It was best if he stayed where he was. If he moved even the slightest, he had the feeling every muscle in his body would rebel against him and he'd be taking her up against the bookshelves in mere moments. Besides, even if he did manage to stand without incident, his arousal would probably become noticeable, despite his wealth of black robes.

At last, Hermione stood and strode toward the window, and Severus let out a breath of relief as his muscles relaxed the tiniest fraction. When she turned around, she'd managed to pull up a semi-composed expression, although it was slightly tempered by the redness still claiming her neck and cheeks. Her brow furrowed a little when she saw that he was still on one knee by the chair, but she mercifully said nothing about it.

Instead, she took a breath and flinched when she met his eyes.

"I…I'm so," Hermione choked out, wringing her hands, "_so_ sorry. I…please forgive me. I didn't…I wasn't…I…." She winced again, glancing down at the floor. "Please say something."

It was Severus' turn to grimace. That was quite a request, considering that his throat was dry and all his tongue wanted to do was…. Best not to finish that thought. He pushed himself up, surreptitiously adjusting his robes to cover his arousal while he brushed them off. He was mostly just buying time with this trivial movement, but she didn't seem to notice. In fact, it only made her wring her hands all the more.

"What would you like me to say?" Severus eventually managed, arching a brow at her.

Somehow, he didn't think his usual stern professor voice and expression came off. Hermione stared at him, brow furrowed in confusion. He could practically _see_ the gears start to grind as she tried to figure out what he was thinking. Half of him hoped she would come to the right conclusion, although that rarely, if ever, happened. Of course, now that she was feeling more confident, she was starting to make closer judgments.

However, considering what just transpired and how she normally reacted to this sort of situation with him, Severus could only assume she would go back to making the wrong assumptions.

"Eh…." She cleared her throat, gathering herself. "I…I don't know. Maybe…umm…'fifty points from Gryffindor and a month's detention with Filch'? Or 'please see to it that you keep your revolting mouth under control from now on, you silly girl'? Or even…'I hate cabbages.' Anything, please."

Hermione's desperation was quite obviously sincere. She'd said 'I hate cabbages' completely seriously. Severus fought the amusement he felt rising, since he knew it would only spur further misunderstandings. Still, he couldn't resist saying at least one thing….

"What do cabbages have to do with anything?" he inquired calmly.

She only got more upset. "Sir, I…."

Severus felt himself frown immediately. "You were asleep, I believe. I would hardly give you detention for something you did while sleeping. Besides, you're no longer _in_ Gryffindor. Point deductions do not affect you."

"But I wasn't—" Hermione argued, then paused and blushed, quieting her voice. "I-I was awake. I mean…I had just woken up, of course, but—"

"All the same. You were not in control of your faculties," he retorted smoothly.

"But sir—"

"Would you _like_ to be punished?" he inquired, then immediately regretted it.

He forced his focus onto the stained glass window behind her in the hopes that his eyes wouldn't give away what 'punishment' he was thinking of. Hermione was shaking her head slightly, looking abashed.

"No, sir," she replied softly. "I was just…I just wish—" She shook her head, hard. "Never mind."

Severus softened when her gaze dropped to the floor, head bowing. He sighed heavily and allowed himself a moment of the kind of treatment he wished to give her at all times. Not only in these restricted moments in private.

"What do you wish?" he asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head again. "It's not important."

He scowled and she automatically dropped her gaze once more. She was still wringing her hands, he noted with a sigh. Obviously, he wasn't going to get her to open up any more than that. He couldn't reasonably blame her, considering that he had basically shut her down with his inability to put feelings into action at the moment. Still, it was frustrating. They had made such progress in the past weeks, and now she was on the verge of avoiding him again.

Perhaps if he discussed things with her…. Severus mentally scoffed at the notion. Telling her would only increase both their suffering, he was sure. She would be unable to act, knowing he wanted her, just as he had been doing for the past eight months. He certainly didn't want to inflict that torture on her. Although the idea of a discussion of some sort might not be totally out of the question.

Granted, he would have to decide what to discuss and he himself would probably have to open up. It suddenly occurred to him that telling Hermione he'd performed Legilimency on her might be a good idea. He immediately brushed that aside—that would be like suicide. But once the thought entered his mind, it stuck, much like the once-annoying thought that Hermione wasn't too horrible to talk to.

Only this thought began to gnaw at him. He'd entered her mind without permission. Yet another emotion Severus hadn't felt in years rose up because of Hermione Granger: guilt. As quickly as he felt it, he remembered how much he hated it. It was the kind of feeling that tore you up from the inside out, wearing you down to thin shreds of sanity until you either shoved it aside and moved on, or confessed.

But for the first time, in this case, Severus found himself wanting to confess. Why? He had absolutely no idea. He assumed it had something to do with this amazing ability she had to make him want to do the right thing. The courteous thing. If only toward her.

So, Severus sighed and braced himself for the anger she would be sure to unleash on him. Hermione hadn't moved from that spot, but since he'd begun his musings, her hands had stopped their dance. He realized with a rush of desire that she was absently running her finger over her bottom lip in a slow, mesmerizing pattern.

He forced himself to push past the knot suddenly lodged in his throat and cleared his throat. Her hand shot to her side and she met his eyes, startled once again.

"Miss Granger, there is something I—"

"_Miss_ Granger!" a sharp, unfortunately familiar voice screeched. "You haven't properly put away your books yet! And how many times must I tell you insidious students _not_ to put your inkpots near your books?!"

Hermione's blush returned full-power. "Madam Pince! I-I wasn't done with them yet, actually. You see, I fell asleep an—"

"You fell _asleep_ on the books?!" the woman shrieked.

Severus thought she might actually have a coronary. He rolled his eyes and whipped around, brow arching high and expression darkening. He straightened and towered over the annoying woman, letting all his irritation with her inopportune interruption show.

"Yes, by accident, as I'm sure you can understand," Severus hissed, glowering at her. "I doubt your precious volumes were damaged by the weight of Miss Granger's head."

"She has her inkpot right by the books! That could cause plenty of damage!" Pince exclaimed, pointing with a long, curved finger.

Severus followed her gaze, although he didn't need to, and saw Hermione open her mouth to explain. He cut in immediately, knowing her excuse.

"_That_ was my doing," he explained sharply. "I'm sure she would not have appreciated it if I had let her knock it over into her hair, in favor of protecting your books from the _slight_ possibility that they might get a _drop_ of ink on them."

Pince's mouth opened and closed, much like a fish gasping for air. Severus arched his brow all the higher and went in for the kill.

"Now, if you don't mind, I believe Miss Granger has work to do," he snarled, watching her eyebrows rise in surprise. "Unless you would like to keep her from it and risk Minerva's wrath, along with the Headmaster's?" He paused and she stared. "No? I thought not. I'm sure you have much more important things to do than harass a student of seven years who has shown you and your books nothing but the utmost respect."

Pince scowled at him indignantly, rising up for what he was sure would (not) have been a spectacular lashing. Then she completely ruined it with a huff and a pout. She whirled on her heel and strode off like a mad woman, probably to write a scathing letter to the Headmaster about his vicious professor who must be fired immediately.

Severus rolled his eyes and snorted after the woman. How ridiculous. Then, at last, he turned about to find Hermione staring at him with the most confused expression he'd ever seen. It was almost amusing, except that she looked so lost.

When she realized he was looking back at her, Hermione shook herself out of it and swallowed.

"Eh…thank you," she said at last, uncertainly. "I-I don't know what I did to make her hate me, but…thank you. I'm not sure what I would've done if—"

"Madam Pince is in the habit of hating the very air around her books," Severus explained, feeling very calm now that he'd lashed out at that vile woman. "You've done nothing."

Hermione nodded once, blush intensifying. "Well…thank you. As you said, I-I should get back to work now."

He arched a brow at her, but dipped his head. "Very well. Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, sir," she replied automatically.

He took a moment to eye her for a delicious moment, then snatched the book he'd been looking for in the first place and swept away. As well as he could when he was still half-aroused.

* * *

As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Hermione threw her things back into her bag, levitated the books back to their proper places, and bolted from the library as quickly as her regrettably short legs could carry her. It was true, she'd told Severus she was going to work more, and she felt a little bad about lying to him. But he did not need to know that she was going to hunt down Ginny and squeal for about an hour about how amazing that kiss had been.

Of course, he hadn't kissed her back. Or at least she didn't think he had. But just the taste of his mouth and the firmness of his lips, combined with the hotness of the dream she just had, was enough to send moisture between her legs and tingles throughout her body. She probably wouldn't go into that much detail with Ginny, Hermione reflected.

She also intended to ask Ginny what the hell was going on in Severus' head. What did he want from her? He wasn't mad that she'd kissed him. In fact, he hadn't even seemed to want to talk about it. He was really evasive, actually. But then he'd been so protective of her when Pince came squawking about her books. So really, what did he want?

Fortunately, it was so late at night that Hermione had no problems racing through the halls in search of Ginny. It was also so late that Ginny wasn't actually supposed to be out and about, but really…Hermione would just be lying to herself if she didn't expect Ginny to break that rule. The only problem was that she didn't know where she would be, for one thing. The other was how clothed she would be.

Hermione crossed her fingers and heaved her bag higher over her shoulder as she whipped around the corner. Just as she did, she caught movement from behind one of the suits of armor. A curl of blond hair disappeared behind it and Hermione started.

"Lavender!" she exclaimed, marching straight over.

The girl jumped sky high. "I'm sleepwalking!" she hollered.

Hermione furrowed her brow at Lavender, who breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was only her ugly Know-It-All friend.

"For the love of Merlin, Hermione!" Lavender scolded. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Look, I'm sorry. But I just wanted to know if you know where Ginny is," she inquired eagerly.

She folded her arms, scowling. "I don't know."

Hermione frowned right back. "Lavender, you're the biggest gossip I know, and _now_ you decide to clam up?"

"Well, maybe I'm mad at you," she barked, raising her chin defiantly.

"Huh? What did I—oh! Right, I forgot that everything 'Won-Won' says is true in your book." Hermione sighed. "That'll make this a bit harder. Look, Lavender, I know Ron is angry with me right now, but do you even know why he's mad at me?"

Lavender hesitated, pouting. "No," she snapped defensively.

"Well…you might try asking him," she suggested, then changed tactics. "I really need to find Ginny. So, if you could try to get past the hurt, just this once, I would really appreciate it."

She sighed. "Okay, fine. But only because you wrote my essay that one time fourth year!"

Hermione frowned. "I never wrote an essay for you."

"Oh, yeah! That was Dean…."

"How did you mix me up with—never mind. I don't want to know." Hermione shook her head, sighing again. "Where's Ginny then?"

"I think I saw her go into the Room of Requirement with Malfoy," Lavender replied, shrugging. "Personally, I think she could do better. He is so not as hot as she is and—"

"Okay, that's great, Lavender. I would love to hear about your theories," she assured her, reluctantly giving the exuberant girl a pat on the shoulder. "But I _really_ need to talk to Ginny."

Lavender huffed. "Fine. No one ever listens to me."

Hermione considered making the comment that it was hard _not_ to listen to someone who felt it necessary to screech everything she said, but decided against that course of action. Instead, she said good night to Lavender and took off for the Room of Requirement. Once she'd done the three required passes, the door appeared and she chose to knock three times to warn them. At least they could cover themselves up that way.

When Hermione entered, instead of finding the two of them pulling on their knickers as quickly as humanly possible, she found Ginny brushing off Draco's fine black robes as he stood in front of a full-length mirror.

"Well…hi," Hermione managed.

Ginny whirled and then grinned. "Oh, hi, Hermione! What a relief! I thought maybe Filch found us or something."

Which hadn't, Hermione noted, stopped her from what she was doing. Nothing ever fazed that girl. Draco waved, then went back to straightening his cuffs.

"No, no. Just me." Hermione settled down on the couch the room supplied and watched as Ginny continued to move around Draco. "What are you two doing in here?"

"Oh! Well, Draco has to go to his parents' trials tomorrow," Ginny explained cheerfully. "So he wanted to look presentable for the Wizengamot."

"Oh, so you're not going to Hogsmeade with the rest of us?"

"Nope. You'll just have to survive without me," Draco replied with a wink.

"How did you find us?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Lavender. How else?"

"Ah. Yes, she does spend an inordinate amount of time 'spying' and finding out where everyone goes so she can be the Hogwarts Rumor Mill," Draco commented, nodding sagely. "Although, little tip just for her: don't ever giggle when you spy."

"You call that giggling?" Ginny retorted, scoffing. "We call it braying."

"Well, good luck with the trials tomorrow," Hermione interrupted, bursting with the need to spill everything to her best girl friend in the hopes that she would have an answer. "I hope your dad goes to prison and your mother is fit."

Draco grinned. "Thanks."

"So if you thought we were doing other stuff," Ginny began interestedly, "why are you here?"

"I…I kind of need to talk to you," she replied anxiously.

She brushed off Draco's shoulders. "Why? What's up?"

Hermione struggled with that for a moment. How to answer that question. There were so many ways, really. The ceiling was up, for certain. And then there was the fact that she'd just kissed the man she was desperately in love with and he'd basically acted like she'd asked him how his day had gone. Right before he nearly took off the librarian's head in her defense. It was best to start at the beginning, she supposed.

"I kissed Severus," Hermione blurted.

Ginny dropped the lint brush she'd just picked up. "_WHAT_?!"

Draco was gaping at her reflection in the mirror. Hermione squirmed in place, feeling the sudden and very pressing need to pace. Ginny stared at her some more, mute, so Hermione decided perhaps she should repeat herself to prompt more of a reaction.

"I…I kissed Severus," she said again, crossing her legs.

"Oh, my God!" Ginny exclaimed. "This is _awesome_! How did it happen? Was it amazing? Where did it happen? Did he kiss you back? What else happened? What made you do it? Oh! Did he admit he loves you? Did—"

"Okay, sweetheart," Draco cut in, rubbing her shoulders. "I think we're overwhelming her a bit with all the questions, don't you?"

Ginny started to protest but, seeing the look on her friend's face, drooped and gave in.

"Fine, fine. I'll calm down. A little."

Draco kissed her cheek and she bounced over to sit next to Hermione, while he occupied the chair next to the couch. Ginny squeezed Hermione in a one-armed hug and sighed.

"So. What happened?" Ginny asked steadily.

Hermione was impressed with her restraint.

"Well…I-I had fallen asleep in the library," she began slowly. "I was studying the different elements and their properties and this one Arithmantic calculation that's supposed to—" She cleared her throat at the looks on their faces. "Anyway, that's not important. I fell asleep and then I-I had this very, um…."

"What?" Draco prompted impatiently.

"Intense, I guess? Yeah, intense dream," Hermione managed, squirming in place again.

"Oh, a sex dream!" Ginny said excitedly. "I love those. Was he on—"

"Ginny!"

"I'm sorry. I'll calm down." She huffed. "So. Go on. You were having an 'intense' dream."

"Yes, and, well, before it got to the end, it…ended. And then I saw Severus nearby and so I assumed it had to be another…dream." Hermione cleared her throat heavily. "I didn't exactly realize that I'd woken up and he was kneeling on the floor next to me."

"So you kissed him?" Draco asked, sounding stunned.

"Oh, it's worse," Hermione replied, sighing. "First I…touched his cheek. And then I asked him why he'd stopped."

Draco immediately started laughing, eliciting glares from both girls. He faked a cough then and pounded his chest, shifting in his chair.

"Sorry, I think I'm catching something."

Ginny glowered. "Uh-huh."

"Well, _then_ I kissed him," Hermione concluded, then winced. "With…tongue. So, okay, I snogged him."

Both Draco and Ginny blurted something at once. Hermione frowned and waited for them to ask separately, since they clearly didn't have the same things in mind.

"How was it?" Ginny asked, after exchanging a glance with Draco.

"What did he do?" Draco added, and he actually looked interested.

Hermione shifted again. "It was pretty…pretty good." She cleared her throat when Ginny stared sternly at her. "Okay, so it was amazing! And I'm fairly certain that if I don't ever get to do it again, I will shrivel up and die, because it was just so…." She sighed.

Ginny was grinning. "Well, I guess you'd better do it again. And soon."

"Did he participate, then?" Draco inquired eagerly.

"Well…no."

Both of her enthusiastic listeners drooped, but Ginny perked up when she saw the thoughtful look on Hermione's face.

"At least…I don't think he did." She bit her lip, trying to remember. "It's really hard to remember, since I was barely awake and I was mostly focusing on how good it was for me."

"So he just sort of sat there and let you kiss him?" Ginny asked, looking put out.

Hermione shrugged. "I guess. Although…toward the end he might've…but I don't know. I mean, it was just a split second before I realized what was happening, you know?"

"Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that _you_ _**stopped**_ the kiss?!" she demanded, eyes wide with shock.

"Well, yeah! You don't keep kissing someone who's not responding to it!" she exclaimed defensively. "Besides, I had _just_ woken up! I wasn't really focusing on the part where he didn't shove me off of him and start berating me immediately!"

"Maybe he _would've_ started responding if you hadn't stopped it!"

"I really don't think—"

"All right, ladies. What happened, happened. No going back now," Draco reminded them calmly. "What did you do next?"

"I-I sat there for a moment, waiting for him to start yelling at me and waiting for my legs to stop shaking," Hermione admitted quietly. "And then I stood up to put some distance between us and I apologized to him."

"What'd he say?" Ginny pressed.

"Nothing. He just knelt there and—"

"Wait. You stood up and he kept kneeling?" Draco inquired, arching a brow.

"Yes. I thought that was odd, too, but I assumed he was just in shock," Hermione explained, shrugging. "Anyway. I asked him to say something and he stood up and asked me what I wanted him to say. Which was the last thing I expected him to say, although I suppose I should've, since he can be very evasive when he wants to be.

"I told him I didn't know what. Maybe he should deduct points or give me detention or something. Finally he said he wouldn't punish me for something I did in my sleep and, anyway, he couldn't deduct points because I'm not in Gryffindor anymore."

"But you weren't sleeping," Ginny pointed out.

"That's what I said! But he said I wasn't in control of my faculties," Hermione retorted, frowning. "I mean, the whole thing was just odd. It's really not like him. Or…is it just me? Am I just insane?"

"No, you're not," Draco assured her.

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, if it were anyone else, he would've exploded."

"Trust me. I've seen what he does when women like him," he added, nodding sagely. "It's not pretty."

Hermione sighed. "Well, then I don't know what he wants from me. But we're getting a little off-topic. I started to protest, but then he asked if I wanted to be punished, so I told him no. He was kind of harsh about that, actually, which was very confusing, since just a moment ago he'd been so calm.

"Anyway, I almost told him that I wish he'd just tell me what he wants, or how he feels. Because this is just torture, you know? I hate not knowing what he's thinking."

Ginny rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "I know."

"So, then we sort of got quiet and I started thinking about that kiss. I almost forgot he was there, actually. But then he started to say something, and then Pince interrupted us."

Draco smacked his forehead. "Bloody vulture."

"She started yelling at me about my books, and I told her that I'd fallen asleep and tried to explain. But you know Pince."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Sure do. Wish I didn't."

"But then Severus started yelling at her and defending me." Hermione frowned. "It was so surprising. I mean, I've never seen him yell at a colleague like that before. She even took off when he was done."

"Wow," Ginny observed.

"And then I wanted to talk to you, so I told him I'd go back to work and he left," she concluded, sighing. "So you can see why I'm a bit confused. He didn't kiss me back, he didn't punish me for it, and he yelled at Madam Pince in my defense. I'm stumped."

Ginny and Draco exchanged a long glance, communicating something Hermione definitely didn't pick up. At last, Ginny sighed and turned back to her, rubbing her back soothingly.

"I…I think you should ask him," Ginny said at last.

"What?! Are you crazy?" Hermione gaped at the two of them, but they were perfectly serious. "He _told_ me he couldn't tell me how he feels until the end of my apprenticeships. I can't go asking him!"

"I don't mean ask him how he feels about how you feel," she retorted firmly. "I mean ask him what he wants from you. Honestly, Hermione, it can't be good for you to be this stressed. Every time you see him he gives you mixed signals and you end up wondering what just happened. He needs to be clearer about what he wants from your relationship."

"Yeah. And you don't even have to address a romantic relationship," Draco added, leaning forward on his elbows. "You can just ask if he wants to be friends or not. It'll be easier for you if you know what lines you can cross. Right now, you're stuck thinking you should act like his student, but that he might like you as a friend. That's too confusing. He needs to tell you exactly what your relationship is."

Hermione frowned uncertainly. "But what if he tells me he doesn't want anything from me? What if he says he's just indifferent or that he expects me to act like his student?"

"At least you'll know, right?" Ginny asked pointedly. "It's like when Draco and I were on the verge of getting together. I didn't know his expectations until I told him what mine were. Snape already knows what you want, but he didn't keep up his end of the deal and give you the same courtesy."

"Well, my telling him wasn't exactly out of courtesy…" Hermione reminded her.

"That doesn't matter. The fact is, he knows," Ginny said confidently. "You deserve to know, too."

* * *

Severus paced the Headmaster's office restlessly. He hadn't slept the entire night, and all the work he'd been intending to do had been tossed aside in favor of taking cold showers. Every time he thought he had the kiss and Hermione's dream out of his head, both memories would creep back up on him and he would be just as aroused as he'd been in the library. Fortunately, in his private quarters, there was no one to hide it from.

Unfortunately, the more Severus thought about it, the more he realized how much he hated being away from Hermione. It was rather ironic, he thought, that he couldn't even think about her without getting a little aroused and yet he wanted to torture himself with another five months of her company. It had been bad enough the previous year, when they hadn't kissed and he hadn't known how she felt.

Of course, it had occurred to him that he could just forget about the five months of waiting and be with her. After all, previous to that intoxicating dream, Severus assumed Hermione was a bit lacking in her knowledge of desire and all that came with it. He once again reprimanded himself for using Legilimency on her. He should have known he'd find something he'd have been better off not knowing.

Hermione had seemed innocent and oblivious to it all, before his intrusion. She hadn't even noticed Twit-tl-dork's attraction to her, and the boy had followed after her like a lovesick puppy for months. Severus wouldn't have been surprised if there had, on occasion, been drool.

So, Hermione was obviously lacking in her knowledge of men, which was ironic considering her closest friends were boys. And while her feelings of love for him were true—the Veritaserum wouldn't have allowed anything else—she certainly didn't seem to realize what the whole package would be. But apparently he'd been wrong about all that.

Other than not having real experience, Hermione clearly did know what it would mean. And not only that, but she evidently _wanted_ it, as well. A little voice whispered that that meant she was suffering from unfulfilled desire, too. And wouldn't it be cruel and just a tad unfair to let her go on that way?

He reprimanded himself harshly once again. He couldn't rationalize something that would only hurt her in the end. It could not—and would not—happen, even if she really did know what the act itself would mean. She did not know what the other consequences would be, the social consequences. He wouldn't hurt her chances for a happy, successful future.

Severus would, however, do everything in his power to see to it that Hermione would no longer be able to avoid him. Even if she wanted to. He halted his pacing when the door opened and in strode Minerva and Dumbledore.

* * *

"I'm bored."

Ginny huffed and shot a long glare at her brother, who was leaning on his fist instead of studying. Like he was supposed to be doing. She hadn't invited him to sit with her, but he'd apparently decided his company was welcome at all times. Despite the fact that he treated her boyfriend like dirt and treated Hermione even worse.

"Why don't you try opening one of the books you brought then?" Ginny snapped, gesturing to the one he was propping his elbow on. "You might actually stand a chance of passing your N.E.W.T.s."

Ron's expression darkened. "You sound like Hermione."

Ginny rolled her eyes. They were all supposed to go to Hogsmeade today, but the trip had been cancelled due to weather. It was just as well, since next week was Valentine's Day, which would make the trip all that much more fun. She'd decided to study instead, since Harry and Luna were occupying themselves elsewhere, Draco was at the Ministry, Neville was fussing about his plants, and Hermione was trying to catch up on the sleep she'd missed out on.

She still couldn't believe Hermione had _kissed_ Snape. It was such a bold move for someone who was so convinced he didn't like her. Of course, Hermione seemed to be lightening up with Snape after she went to him for help with Draco. Who knew how she would act with him now that they'd kissed, though?

"I don't get why she's so mad at me," he said suddenly, obviously missing his little sister's dark expression. "Or Harry, for that matter. Shouldn't they be over it by now?"

She could only stare wordlessly.

"I mean, it's not like I insulted _them_. Just Snape. And it's not like we haven't ranted about that Greasy Git before."

"You called him a Death Eater," she said pointedly.

"That's what he is, isn't it?" he shot back, shaking his head. "Sure, he spied 'for us.' But how do we know he didn't side with us because we won? Seems like something he would do. Side with whoever wins. No principles, I tell you."

Ginny glowered at him. "Hermione loves him."

Ron gaped at her. "Not you, too! Come on! He's _Snape_! I don't see what the big deal is!"

"Really? You don't?" she barked, slamming her book shut. "Because I kind of do. Now, if you'll excuse me, _some_ people actually like to do their work!"

She rose from the couch and stormed from the common room up to her dorm, where Ron definitely couldn't follow her.

* * *

Hermione heaved a sigh and glanced around their group. They'd all gathered after dinner for a study session, mostly to help Ginny feel calmer while she waited for Draco to return. Trials with the Wizengamot took a long time, as they all knew, but the longer it took, the more anxious Ginny felt.

Harry was stretched out across the bench he and Luna shared, his head in her lap. She was reading like a good woman, but Harry appeared to be dozing off. Neville was deeply involved in his Herbology book on the floor next to them, while Ginny was crossing and uncrossing her legs as she 'read' the _Witch Weekly_ copy she'd received earlier that week. Hermione knew she'd practically memorized it by now, so she wasn't actually reading it. Besides, she hadn't turned a page in the last fifteen minutes.

"It's going to be okay," Hermione murmured to the girl next to her.

Ginny jumped and plastered on a fake smile, nodding rapidly.

"Oh, I know that. Draco can handle it," she said confidently, although there was a slight shake in her pitch. "I know we used to think he was a pansy, but he's really quite brave in his own way. Especially since he started thinking for himself and deciding his father didn't hang the moon in the sky. He can—"

Hermione silenced her with a comforting rub on the nearest shoulder. She offered a warm, reassuring smile.

"He is going to be all right," she said in what she hoped was a firm, but gentle, voice.

Ginny relaxed and nodded more calmly, smiling a little. Her eyes returned to the magazine and Hermione gave her one last rub before going back to her book as well. Her thoughts wandered back to the 'nap' she'd had earlier in the day. Crookshanks had been extremely happy she'd decided to take his advice and sleep, since she'd spent the entire night tossing and turning, thinking about what Ginny and Draco had said.

After breakfast and Dumbledore's decision to postpone the Hogsmeade trip, Hermione decided to take a long nap to make up for her night of restlessness. Harry was in full support of this plan, since he seemed to believe she needed to make up for all the sleep she'd missed the year before. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep, but every dream took a turn back to the library and brought up the memory of that kiss.

Hermione often woke up aroused from dreams of Severus, but she usually took a cold shower and it would wash away the heat and desire. She'd never actually had to _deal_ with the arousal. She didn't know how to go about that at all. She knew where the parts were and what sex was supposed to be like, of course, but she was a bit embarrassed to try anything herself. So after she woke up from the very real memory of tasting Severus' fantastic mouth, she went straight to the shower. Only this time it didn't go all the way away.

In fact, when she left her rooms to get lunch with her friends, she was still a little aroused. Only time had eased the almost pleasant ache between her legs and the toe-numbing tingles spreading through her body. As uncomfortably wonderful as those sensations were, Hermione didn't like feeling it around her friends. And she certainly didn't like the thought that she might not be able to get rid of it with a simple cold shower anymore.

Just as she was wondering whether or not time would ease the effect the memory had on her, someone's sharp steps struck out against the stone floor as they approached, interrupting her train of thought.

"Ginny!" Draco called excitedly. "Ginny?"

The redhead literally leapt from the bench, throwing her magazine down without a care. She rushed into Draco's arms as he came around the corner, and the two of them snogged for a bit. Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned as he sat up. Luna stroked his head and Neville's ears went red.

"How did it go?" Ginny asked eagerly when they'd finally pried themselves off of one another.

Draco grinned, ducking in to kiss her briefly again. "Dad is going to Azkaban for thirty to forty years."

"Oh, that's so great!" she said enthusiastically.

"And Mum has officially been declared a fit mother," he announced proudly.

Ginny squealed and Hermione exchanged a grin with her friends as the two of them hugged again.

"I'm so happy for you, Draco," Hermione assured him, nodding.

"Yeah, that's great, mate," Harry added.

And he sounded like he _meant_ it. They all stared at him, except for Luna, and then Draco grinned again.

"Thanks, Potter," he said happily, and then kissed Ginny again.

Hermione cleared her throat and went back to reading when they didn't stop for several moments. Harry and Luna exchanged a smile and he reached up to kiss his girlfriend, as well, while Neville ducked even further behind his book. Hermione had read the same sentence fifteen times by the time someone cleared their throat. Only it didn't sound like any of her friends, and it sent her heart up into her throat as soon as she heard it.

Her gaze shot up, along with all of her friends', and Severus scanned them with an arched brow. He did _not_ look happy. She swallowed and waited for him to say something. The rest of them stared at him apprehensively, lips red and eyes wide. Suddenly, Neville cleared his throat.

"We were just…talking to Hermione," he managed to squeak out.

"Shh! Don't overuse it!" Ginny whispered to him.

Hermione shot a puzzled glance around the group, but all of them seemed to be in agreement with Ginny. They were all staring at Severus sheepishly, wearing polite smiles. At last, Severus rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"Miss Granger, I need to see you in my office immediately," he bit out, eyeing her sharply.

The group's gaze automatically went from Severus to her. She felt her cheeks redden with all the attention, but nodded gamely and shut her book.

"O-of course, sir."

Severus dipped his head and swept an arm to indicate that she should precede him. With trembling legs, Hermione forced herself to her feet and walked past her friends with dignity. Ginny mouthed something that looked like 'good luck', but she didn't quite catch it.

A moment later, Severus was at her side and they walked in complete silence down to his office. Hermione kept her thoughts far off of the topic of what he wanted to talk about—that would only drive her mad and then she'd say something foolish. Like 'you're not going to kill me, are you?'.

Severus opened his office door for her and she thanked him, walking straight to his desk. He shut the door and swept around the desk, gesturing for her to sit. Hermione was thankful there was a chair behind her, or else she'd have landed flat on her bum. Severus sighed heavily as he adjusted himself, scowl deepening.

"I do not believe we finished our discussion last night, due to that overblown, pinch-faced, book hoarding spinster's intrusion," Severus began, sneering disdainfully. "I only mention this because you will spend the entirety of our meeting fretting if I do not tell you that we will attend to that after business is settled. Is that agreeable to you?"

Hermione gave herself a mental shake and nodded dumbly. Severus arched a brow at her and leaned forward in his chair, gaze running over her in a manner that sent a tingle straight up her spine.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, sir. Th-that's fine."

"Good." He stared at her a moment longer. "Prior to lunch, the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and I met for a brief while, as is our habit. Much to my regret, I related to them that you have potentially great prowess in wandless magic. They have deemed it necessary for you receive…" here he sneered again, "lessons in it."

He paused to gaze at her again and Hermione nodded slowly. She didn't really know how to feel about this. Here he was, spreading the news of her talents, and he regretted it?

"All right, if that's what they think is best," she replied uncertainly.

"Indeed. They have also decided that I am to be your tutor," he growled irritably. "I wish to make it as clear to you as I have to them that I am not, nor will I ever be again, your tutor. My aid is simply that: help in learning to expand your power and knowledge. I do not plan to teach you. I am no longer your professor; it is no longer my duty. Is that clear?"

She nodded again, this time rapidly. "Yes, sir. Of course."

Severus seemed to relax a bit at this, for he leaned back in his chair to observe her again. She waited patiently for the rest, inexplicably delighted with this new information. Just a month ago, she'd hoped she would never be forced into his company again. Now she was excited just to have the opportunity to be in his office, despite the awkwardness she felt in the knowledge that she'd snogged him the night before. It was odd how a little perspective could change one's mind.

"Very well. Our practice sessions will be on Friday evenings, as before," he informed her smoothly. "Beginning immediately at six."

"Yes, sir," she replied, out of habit.

There was a long pause while Hermione tried to abate her growing desire and he seemed to do everything he possibly could to intensify it. Of course, he couldn't know that's what he was doing, but it was still making her squirm. At long last, Severus took another breath.

"As to what transpired between us last night," he continued, scowling and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Hermione's gut clenched and she winced. Maybe it was just hitting him and he'd decided to punish her after all. Maybe he was going to reject her right then and there. Maybe—she forced her mind quiet. He hadn't said anything yet. She needed to give him a chance to say what he was going to before she assumed the worst.

"For reasons I am incapable of explaining, even to myself, I feel I must be completely honest with you," Severus said at last, meeting her eyes intently.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Okay…."

"I performed Legilimency on you yesterday evening," he said at length.

She could only stare at him for several moments, but he didn't blink. Didn't even change expression. He was…serious? He'd actually used Legilimency on her? The desire she'd begun to feel suddenly started to ebb away and her body began to heat with something else: anger.

"You did what?" she asked, needing to hear him say it again.

Severus sighed. "I came upon you while you were asleep, and your defenses were lowered enough that I was able to enter your mind."

Hermione shot up from her chair, fueled by the restlessness that came with anger. She stared down at him, not sure what to say for several moments. She couldn't believe he would actually do that to her. He'd _invaded_ her mind. Of course, she could've said all this, but what difference would that make? He already knew that, she was sure.

Not sure of what else to do, she began to pace the room. Severus watched her calmly, not moving from his chair. Hermione swallowed deeply, trying to push down the rage that was starting to boil, but a bit of it still leaked out. She whirled on him.

"How could you do that to me?" she snapped.

And, to her everlasting shock, Severus flinched. As though she'd struck him. It wasn't enough to tamp down the anger she felt, however, and she barreled on. His face went blank immediately afterward anyway, leaving part of her wondering if she'd imagined it.

"Why? Why would you do that?" Hermione yelled, clenching her fists tight to make up for some of the energy that wasn't being used.

"Does it matter?" Severus inquired, soft voice in sharp contrast with hers.

"It does to me!" she bellowed.

His head dipped. "Very well. I wished to see your thoughts, your feelings. What you've been occupying yourself with for the last eight months."

She gaped at him. "What? Wh—why…how…why didn't you just _ask_?!"

He stared at her with an arched brow, as though this never really occurred to him before. Hermione let out a cry of rage and stormed toward the door, but when she tried to turn the knob, it was locked. She whipped around and glowered at him, folding her arms.

"Unlock the door," she ordered sharply, forgetting in her anger that she could simply pull out her wand and do it herself.

"You're angry with me," Severus replied, unfazed.

"You think?!"

"I won't have you leaving upset," he added patiently, a trait she was fairly certain he'd never displayed with her before. At least not this much. "Hear me out."

Hermione huffed, tightening her arms. "Fine. Say what you have to say."

Severus stepped out from behind his desk, approaching slowly, but he didn't dare come closer than the chair she'd been occupying.

"I realized too late that my actions were ill-advised," he explained gently. "That I had invaded your privacy. For the last twenty years of my life, courtesy to others was not a priority. I have had to do things you can't imagine." He paused briefly and she nodded reluctantly. "Trust was never an issue, for no one ever did. I have never had someone trust me enough to simply tell me something when I ask."

"Not even McGonagall? Or the Headmaster? Or the other teachers?" Hermione asked, not bothering to keep the snotty undertone out of her voice.

He shook his head minutely. "There has always been some level of distrust, even if it wasn't conscious."

Hermione bit her tongue before she replied to that. On the one hand, she was still enormously angry with him. She kind of wanted to hex him a little. On the other, Severus was opening up to her. He was being honest, telling her exactly what he'd done and why. She could hardly believe it. From the sounds of it, no one else had ever accepted it when he would open up to them. She wouldn't be just another person who rejected him. She couldn't be.

"Well, I trust you," she said softly. "I'd tell you anything. All you would've had to do was ask."

Severus gazed at her intensely. "I still have your trust?" he inquired warily.

Hermione sighed, but nodded. "It took a little bit of a beating, I'll admit, but…if you promise me that you won't ever do something like that again, I'll believe you. I know that even if you'd use Legilimency on me, you wouldn't lie to me. Obviously."

He held her gaze for several long, breathless moments. Despite the hurt she still felt gnawing at her, Hermione wished desperately that he would close the gap between them. She wanted to taste him again and simply be near him. But rather than pull her into his arms, Severus merely dipped his head in a nod and took a few steps closer.

"You have my word," he said seriously.

Hermione exhaled shakily. "Thank you. But please…if you want to know something, just ask me. Don't go snooping around in my head." She smiled weakly and his lips twitched. "Speaking of which, did you…happen to see…uh—"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Okay. Right." She cleared her throat. "I'm just going to blow past that, because it's far too awkward to address right now."

Severus' lips twitched again, but he nodded. "Very well."

"I do want to ask you something, though," she said bravely.

She really hadn't intended on taking Ginny and Draco's advice. Really. But now she was too curious. He'd wanted to know what she thought enough to perform Legilimency on her. That really had to mean something, didn't it?

"Yes?" he purred, eyeing her again.

"What exactly is it that you want from me?" Hermione managed, keeping her voice just steady enough for him to be able to understand her. When his scowl deepened, she hurried on to explain. "I-I don't mean…what we're not talking about until the end of the year. I-I respect your decision about that. But…well, lately, it's been rather confusing about whether I'm your student, or that silly, annoying Know-It-All you had to suffer teaching once, or…what. So…what am I to you?"

Severus stared at her, brow furrowed and everything. Hermione waited on tenterhooks, afraid that if she breathed she might miss his answer. Now that she'd asked, she was dying to know.

When he opened his mouth, however, an owl cried and flew in through the tiny window high up on the wall, dropping a letter into Severus' hands. It curved around the room and left just as abruptly as it came, as though it were fleeing from them. Hermione frowned curiously. Mail had already been delivered earlier. Or at least she thought it had been.

Severus scowled at the envelope and broke the seal, pulling out a thin slip of parchment. He read it once and flipped it over to the other side, then automatically flipped it back when he found nothing. He sneered at the note in his hands so fiercely that she couldn't help but be a little concerned.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Hermione inquired.

His gaze shot to hers, as though he were startled. "Fine, Miss Granger. Perhaps we can continue this discussion another time. Something has come to my attention."

She frowned. She really didn't want the conversation to end. She wanted to know what he'd been about to say, after all. But she supposed it wouldn't hurt to…put it off. However, she had to make it clear that she wanted to talk about it later. How to do that, she wasn't sure. Then, at long last, she thought, _What would Ginny say?_

"Very well, Professor," Hermione said politely, smiling a tad. "I expect you to be ready with an answer for me by our lesson next week. That should give you plenty of time, shouldn't it? Good. Have a good evening, sir."

Then she turned on her heel, unlocked the door with her remembered wand, and flounced out of the room, leaving a stunned Severus staring after her.


	18. Seventh Year: Part Ten

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own it.

* * *

"So you really said that to him?"

Hermione glanced back at a wide-eyed Harry as they left the empty classroom the group was using for studying. And discussing what Severus' latest tones, words, facial expressions, gestures, etc., meant, much to Hermione's chagrin. She, of course, would've preferred studying and leaving the debate about whether Severus' arched brow after she said 'blah, blah, blah' meant that he was amused or confused alone. Now that her friends had told her they talked about it all the time behind her back, however, that's all they wanted to do in front of her, too.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," Hermione said presently, smiling at her bewildered friend. "I can be very bossy. You should know."

"Oh, no, I know you can be all bossy and confident," Harry assured her hastily. "But I didn't know you could be about Snape. Usually the main descriptors I use for you about him are flighty and panicked."

"Well, I'm making some changes in that area," she replied calmly.

"Thank Merlin," he said with a happy grin. "I hate seeing you act like a thirteen year old under a Befuddlement Charm."

Hermione considered him with narrowed eyes. "Do you remember how I said you could come with me to get the snacks from the kitchen?" He nodded. "Maybe I've changed my mind."

Harry laughed. "I'm only saying that because I know you're better than that. Besides, let's be honest, you haven't exactly made the best choices when it comes to Snape. Remember when you thought he was going to kill us?"

She promptly smacked his arm. "First of all, that was _you_. You're the one who psyched me out. And at least I had an excuse: he'd just found out I love him and said nothing. I was bound to freak out a little. Although, I admit that was a wee bit much. You, however, had absolutely no reason."

"Except for the fact that I'm stupid," he said cheerfully.

"You are not stupid," she retorted firmly.

"Well, okay. How about deciding to avoid him?" He gave her a meaningful look. "That wasn't the best decision you've ever made."

She huffed. "I'll give you that one. But anyway, I _know_ I don't act maturely about him, which is why I'm making changes."

"If it makes you feel better, you were like…thirteen when you fell in love with him," Harry reminded her, smiling. "So it sort of makes sense that you got in the habit of reacting to him like that. Besides, it's not like the rest of us are very mature, either."

"Harry, you're very mature!" she protested immediately. "Just look at how you and Luna are doing. It's magnificent. I'm very proud of you."

He grinned bashfully. "Thanks, but I'm not just talking about the love life. It actually balances out: you're mature about everything else, but we're _only_ mature about that."

"Give me one good example of you being immature lately," Hermione challenged, folding her arms.

"Well, all right." Harry stroked his chin in thought. "Oh! I stuck my tongue out at the back of Ron's head the other day."

She stared at him. "Are you five?"

"Exactly! An-and Ginny? She was arguing with Dean last week and she blurted out something…very embarrassing about his performance during that brief time they dated. And Draco is a bit of a kleptomaniac. Especially about chocolates. And Neville is immature about Snape, too. He hides behind his book every time he sees him. Or, you know, whatever pillar is available. And Ron…well…yeah. He's just—"

"There's too much to list," Hermione concluded, smiling a little.

He nodded. "Yeah. And Luna…well, uh…I-I can't really think of anything for her."

She patted his shoulder. "That's all right. I think we all know that Luna lives in her own little world where maturity isn't really a factor."

He grinned. "Yeah. It's great, isn't it?"

She laughed and shook her head. "You've got it bad, you know that?"

"You're one to talk," Harry replied mock-irritably.

She raised her chin with dignity. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He chuckled and shook his head. "But seriously. I'm glad you're going to show him how confident and fun and…well, _Hermione_ you can be."

When she eyed him, he hurried to add, "Not that he didn't see that anyway, otherwise he probably wouldn't love you. Which he so does, no matter what you say. But it's harder for him to see it, because he only gets peeks. Like when you talk about academics, you just go off into your own little world and don't even notice that you're being yourself. So he'll be able to see the real, not-crazy Hermione more often, fall even more madly in love with you, an-and it'll be great."

"You think so?" she asked sardonically. "Are you really sure thinking about things reasonably like I do about everything else instead of jumping immediately to whatever conclusion comes to mind first is a good idea?"

Harry shook his head, grinning. "And you scoff when we say you're perfect for him."

Hermione couldn't help but shoot him a smile as they trotted down the stairs.

* * *

The next couple of days went by slowly for Hermione. Her apprenticeships were keeping her busy, of course, although the workload was a bit lighter now that she had her final projects to contend with as well. Her masters seemed determined that she have plenty of free time. McGonagall seemed extremely proud, as well as amused, when Hermione announced to her that she'd be taking on two of the projects for Transfigurations.

Now that she wasn't tutoring Asher, Hermione offered to attend lessons on Fridays again, but all three of her masters waved that off. They apparently knew that she would be attending training sessions with Severus and felt that an additional day of work would be unfair to her. She tried to take this as a good thing, since that meant she'd be able to spend more time with her friends.

Hermione saw Severus only occasionally in the halls or at meals in the Great Hall, but now she initiated their exchanged greetings. He seemed stunned from her abrupt exit Saturday evening, for he would only stare at her until she said something to him. Then he would somehow jerk out of his daze, return the greeting, and hurry off. It was a bit unnerving, to tell the truth, but he wasn't scowling at her, so she decided to take his staring as neither a bad nor a good sign.

For some reason, the new leaf Hermione was turning over in regards to Severus was easier than she'd thought it would be. At first she'd been nervous and uncertain about how he'd react, but it was easier to say 'good morning' in a steady voice every time she saw him. She felt…relaxed. Not completely yet, but enough for her to notice a difference. She was still anxious to know his answer, but she'd promised him the whole week, so she kept her mouth shut.

Instead, Hermione focused on getting some work done before the horrific Valentine's Day trip to Hogsmeade on Saturday. She would've preferred staying at Hogwarts and studying, or perhaps taking a relaxing bath and pleasure reading, but all five of her friends were insisting she come along. As if they weren't going to ditch her halfway through the day so they could have alone time. And it wasn't as though she'd blame them, either—she understood the need for privacy. So did they really have to drag her along?

She didn't think it was necessary, but there was no way she was getting out of it. Ginny told Draco she wanted Hermione to come along, which meant that not only would she have to deal with Ginny and Harry's pleading, but she would also have to put up with a Slytherin who liked to please his girlfriend in any way possible.

So, Wednesday evening found Hermione tucked deep in the Transfiguration section, reading up on prior failed attempts at creating an elemental transfiguration spell. She was entrenched so deeply in her reading that she hardly noticed the other students filtering in around her. She may not have noticed them at all were it not for a very familiar voice that kept tugging at her, demanding her attention.

When she glanced up, Hermione found Asher and Michael Corner looking through three different volumes. Asher was wearing his trademark grin, but she could tell he was a little frustrated—he kept scratching his head. Michael was scowling as he flipped through the book. Hermione cleared her throat and forced her eyes back to the page before her. It wouldn't be fair to Asher to say hello, especially when he was obviously busy.

She'd just gotten back into the paragraph about Adele's experiments with plants and water when Michael's voice got a little louder.

"Well, I don't know either!" he exclaimed, huffing. "Hey, let's ask Granger. She'll know."

"I-I think she's—" Asher started, but his friend was already on the way over.

"Hey, Granger!" he called, although unnecessarily since they were in the same section. "Can you help us with something?"

Hermione nodded. "Sure, what is it?" she replied, keeping her voice meaningfully low.

Michael's cheeks went a little pink. "Sorry, forgot where we were. Uh, Asher and I were just doing our Advanced Transfiguration homework and we can't figure out what it means when it's talking about interminable changes."

She took the book from his outstretched hand and read over the section they'd been looking at, then handed it back with a smile. Asher was beet red by now, but he was smiling, albeit nervously. Hermione offered him her friendliest smile, but he just went even redder and looked away.

"It sounds more complicated than it is. There is an affix you must add to every incantation to make it last forever," she explained slowly, watching Asher to make sure he understood. "Of course, it takes a bit of extra power for it to actually work, but…. Try Connor's book on the other side. He explains the entire concept much better in chapter twelve."

Michael grinned. "Thanks!" He swiveled around and pounded Asher on the back. "See? Told you Granger would know."

Asher let his friend go, shifting uncomfortably in front of Hermione. She maintained her friendly smile, hoping it would make him feel more at ease. Fortunately, he eventually let out a breath and spoke.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "I-we really appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

He cleared his throat and nodded several times before finally backing away to go find Michael. Hermione sighed and shook her head as she went back to reading. She hoped Asher could find a way to get past it. She missed hearing his jokes.

* * *

Lavender kissed Ron full on the lips once more before pulling back for a breather. He grinned goofily, like he always did after a good snog, and caressed her hair away from her cheek. She smiled back at him and leaned into his shoulder, listening to his heavy breaths.

As much as she enjoyed his kisses, Lavender couldn't help but be distracted. Ever since Friday night, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about what Hermione said about Ron being mad. It really hadn't occurred to Lavender to ask Ron about it before that. Really, why wouldn't he have a reason to be mad at them? Hermione was always stuck in her books and Harry was always stuck on Luna—she'd just assumed that was why her dear Ronny was mad.

But now she had to wonder…. What if it was something else? What if Ron needed to talk about it? She hadn't even asked! Lavender sighed, shaking her head. That was it—she'd simply have to ask him why he was mad and if he needed a shoulder to cry on. It was the right thing to do as his girlfriend. It was practically her duty.

"Won-won?" she ventured, nuzzling under his chin.

"Hmm?"

She sighed. "Why are you mad at Hermione and Harry?"

He stiffened immediately and Lavender gave him a light squeeze. Gradually, Ron pulled back and looked her in the eye, scowling.

"Why would you ask that?" he asked harshly.

She promptly pouted. "Won-won," she whined sweetly, "I just wanted to see if you wanted to talk about it or anything. Plus, I ran into Hermione the other night and I couldn't argue in your defense since I didn't know what's going on."

Ron frowned. "Oh. Well…." He sighed and scratched his head. "Hermione…likes someone wh—"

"Oh, my God, she does?!" Lavender exclaimed, sitting up immediately. "Who?! Who is he? What does he look like? Oh, is it—"

"Could we focus please?" he cut in, scowling.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, sorry. Go."

"As I was saying, she likes someone…as a _friend_," he emphasized, shaking his head. "And I don't like him. And Harry is siding with her."

"Oh. Is that all?" she asked, sighing in relief.

"What do you mean 'is that all'?" he barked irritably. "It's a big deal! The man is a blackguard and a prat!"

"But…Hermione is your friend, right?" she asked, peering at him curiously.

He frowned in confusion. "Well, yeah. I mean, she wa—"

"So, shouldn't you support her?" Lavender inquired. "I mean, heaven knows I've had to put up with some incredibly disgusting choices on Parvati's part. Seriously, dragon-hide high heels? Are they kidding? And she totally went for it, even though I was like, 'They look hideous! How could you buy that?' But she was all, 'I like them!'

"So I had to put up with her wearing them around for months, with people staring at us and stuff, but then she saw them in a mirror at a store in Hogsmeade and she was like, 'They're so ugly!' And she returned them for store credit, because Parvati takes really good care of her shoes, and then she was all, 'Thank you, Lavender.' And I was like, 'Don't even mention it!' And so now she listens to me whenever I tell her that her shoes are ugly." She grinned at him.

Ron was staring at her almost thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. She leaned forward and kissed him.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, fine. Fine." He swallowed and tapped her nose affectionately. "Thanks, Lavender."

She grinned. "I think you should kiss me now."

Ron returned the grin and soon they were back to snogging.

* * *

"Are you nervous?" Ginny asked quietly as she leaned across the table.

Harry and Neville immediately perked up, watching Hermione interestedly. She finished putting a dash of pepper into her potatoes and frowned at them, a bit puzzled.

"Nervous about what?" she asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Tonight! Right after dinner! You're having your first lesson—"

"Practice session," Hermione corrected automatically. "He insisted he is not to be thought of as a tutor."

"Okay, fine. Are you nervous?" the redhead repeated anxiously, bouncing her knees under the table so rapidly they could feel the vibration.

"Uh, Gin," Harry said, gesturing to the table.

The vibrating halted and Ginny cleared her throat.

"Sorry."

They all went back to staring at Hermione, who put her fork down with dignity and looked around at them.

"No, I am not nervous," she replied calmly. "I have read as much as I possibly can about wandless magic, and I've been practicing on my music box again. I feel prepared."

"Not about that!" Ginny exclaimed, huffing.

"She means about spending an entire evening with Snape," Harry said softly.

"Oh." Hermione frowned. "I've done it before, haven't I?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Not since he found out about your you-know-what," Neville cut in.

"Still, I imagine it'll be just as if it were last year and he knew nothing," she retorted, shrugging. "Besides, I practically spent the entirety of the New Year's party with him. Why should this be any different? He promised things would stay the same, they have, and who am I to question that?"

The boys sat back, almost as though disappointed. Ginny, on the other hand, was shaking her head.

"I actually wasn't asking about that, either," she announced.

"Then what were you talking about?" Harry inquired curiously.

"I was talking about Snape's answer."

Hermione froze and looked around at the three of them, pressing in around her with interest written all over their faces. She heaved a sigh and tossed a glance up at the High Table, where Severus sat discussing something or other with McGonagall. She leaned in a little closer to her friends after a roll of the eyes.

"Yes, I am a bit nervous, to be honest," she admitted, hurrying on when Harry and Ginny opened their mouths. "_But_ it's just because there is still a slight chance that it won't be positive. I very much doubt that it'll be negative, however, seeing as the evidence that he dislikes me is either all in the past, or so insignificant compared to all the other evidence that it's hardly worth mentioning."

Her friends were grinning at her now.

"You're so smart," Ginny said happily, patting her on the head.

"And you're using it!" Harry added, patting her as well.

Hermione gave a pinched smile. "Thank you for those observations. But can you do something for me?"

"Anything."

"What?"

"Don't ever pat me on the head again," she ordered, smirking when they blushed and shrank in their chairs.

* * *

Hermione rubbed her palms on her robes once as she trotted down the stairs to Severus' office. That was where she assumed their practice sessions would take place, since he hadn't specified a location. If he wasn't there, she supposed she'd just have to go up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room and see if he was there. She had enough time, since she'd left her rooms a little early.

She was a little bit more anxious than she'd let on earlier when her friends were interrogating her. Truthfully, she was fighting the panic and doubt that so often seemed to grip her when it came to Severus. She kept reminding herself of what she'd told her friends: there was much more evidence that he would say something positive than negative. All of the rude, callous treatment was in the past—far in the past, actually.

Soothed by her own reasoning, Hermione knocked twice on his office door and waited.

"Enter."

She swung open the door and found Severus setting a small table against the far wall. His office was almost completely cleared out—his desk was gone, as were the chairs, leaving almost the entire room for practice space. She shut the door carefully and waited patiently for Severus' attention. He set a silver pocket watch on the table and abruptly turned to face her.

Hermione offered a small smile, which he didn't return. She couldn't read anything in his expression, for he simply gazed at her with that familiar scowl of his. She decided to brush that aside and took a breath, venturing further into the room.

"Good evening, Professor," she said, but her voice was softer than she'd intended it to be. She cleared her throat, raising it an octave. "I know I'm a bit early, but I assumed you would rather have me early than late."

"This is your time," Severus replied lowly. "When you arrive and depart is your prerogative."

Hermione decided against pointing out that he'd told her to be there at six. Instead, she nodded and fell silent, not sure what to say now. He was still watching her, sending heat curling through her centre and making her itch to squirm. Her gaze wandered to the pocket watch on the little table he'd set up. She gestured to it and opened her mouth, about to ask what it was for, when he spoke.

"I believe there was a question you desired an answer to," Severus purred, closing even more of the distance between them.

She forced herself to nod, rather than simply stand there gaping at him like an idiot.

"Yes, there was," Hermione said steadily.

"Six days is hardly sufficient time to conjure an adequate reply to a question such as yours," he said, almost sharply. "As such, I do hope that, should my answer prove disagreeable to you, you will consider granting me more time to contemplate a better reply." He eyed her meaningfully before adding, "I can assure you now that it is inadequate."

She smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure it's not."

He arched his brow high and she felt her smile fade a little. He inched another step closer and she nearly bolted across the gap, tiring of their shy shifting. Since that would cut off any reply he would make, she kept herself in check and eagerly awaited his words. He took a breath and locked his gaze with hers.

"You are my equal," Severus said at length, voice so low she almost had to lean in to catch it. "That is how I see you."

Hermione could only stare at him for several moments. She'd never expected to hear that, out of all the things he could've said. 'Equal.' When his brow arched again, she cleared her throat, opening and closing her mouth several times as she tried to work out what she wanted to say. His nostrils flared when he exhaled, a sure sign of impatience.

"I-I'm sorry," she blurted, taking an unconscious step forward. "It's just that…I've been spending the last six years seeing you as my intimidating and impressive professor who I could never, ever be on the same level with. It's just a lot to digest. That you think I'm…your equal."

Severus stared at her for several moments before finally dipping his head.

"I am glad I was able to clear up that misunderstanding," he said quietly. "Now, shall we get on with it?"

Hermione nodded and smiled. "Of course. What are we starting with?"

He stepped aside, gesturing for her to move further into the room, and as she moved to the spot he indicated, he explained.

"Summoning spells are among the easiest with a wand and without. However, they can still be challenging to master when one has no prior knowledge of how to use magic without a wand. Therefore, we are starting with a small object, as well as a small distance."

"All right. I've been reading about the use of wandless magic, but I'm still not quite clear on how to direct the magic without the wand. Is it the hand, instead, or something else entirely?"

As they settled into their normal discussions, Hermione found herself relaxing completely in his presence. The knowledge that she was no longer a student in his eyes made it that much easier to be the confident person she'd grown to be, rather than the gawky, knobby little girl who'd looked into a mirror so long ago.

Something about Severus seemed more relaxed with her, as though her leisure and confidence made it easier for him, too. And, although she'd never thought it possible, the hours they spent together that evening were even more wonderful than those they had the year before.

* * *

The morning-after bliss Hermione felt the next day was swiftly crushed when she realized that it was Valentine's Day, and they were all going to Hogsmeade. She slumped back into bed with Crookshanks for several minutes following this realization, hoping she could just doze off and they would all leave without her. Unfortunately, Loki was under instructions to let her friends in if it was between the hours of nine and five.

Hermione cursed her stupid self-imposed rule and rolled out of bed, hurrying off to the shower as the cold air started to affect her. The hot water was quite a relief. Until she had to get out with a wet body. She swung the towel around her as quickly as possible and hurried to pick out clothing that would both keep her warm and please Ginny.

Crookshanks watched her throw on black leggings, navy blue jeans, a white tank-top, and a maroon long-sleeved shirt with interest. He quickly grew bored when she began pulling on her old Gryffindor scarf and a black robe, and he eventually went off to find a toy to slaughter. Hermione bid him goodbye and headed out to meet her friends in the entrance hall, where they were all supposed to meet.

Ginny scolded Hermione immediately for being two minutes late, going on and on about how she'd worried that she wasn't going to show, while Neville tried time and again to introduce Hermione to a sixth year Hufflepuff girl he'd met. Hermione leveled glares at him every now and then for abandoning her for yet another year. By the time they finally headed out into the cold, cruel world, Harry was already midway through his yearly speech about how they wouldn't abandon Hermione. She could only nod and smile while privately thinking, _Yeah, right._

The first thing Harry, Ginny, Draco, and Neville's Hufflepuff girl (whose name turned out to be Jessica) wanted to do once they were in Hogsmeade was go to the Quidditch store. And since Luna was attached at the lips to Harry, Neville was attached at the hip to Jessica, and Hermione was attached by ball and chain to all of them, they all ended up going there. Despite Hermione's suggestion that those who weren't interested in Quidditch go to the bookstore.

Unsurprisingly, the Quidditch store was filled with fat cherubs in diapers, flying around on tiny models of the newest broom. Every once in a while the annoying creatures would giggle and shoot arrows at the patrons, all of which landed harmlessly and sprouted into heart-shaped bubbles once they hit their target. Hermione was about ready to blast one of the damned nuisances five minutes in.

Once the four Quidditch lovers had had most of their fill, it was decided that they would go to Dervish and Banges, which at least had more interesting things to offer than books about the aerodynamics of broomsticks. While they were on the way, Jessica suddenly appeared in Hermione's peripheral vision.

"So, Neville says you hate Valentine's Day," the brunette said curiously. "Why's that?"

Hermione glared across her at Neville. "I don't _hate_ Valentine's Day. I just don't care about it. It's a complete waste of a day."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Here it comes."

"Honestly, what grown witch or wizard wants to spend an entire day devoting all their attention to love?" she demanded irritably. "If you can even call it that. From what I've seen, not one person celebrates love. Oh, they celebrate getting candy, of course. And they _certainly_ celebrate lust, but love?" She scoffed. "It's ridiculous anyway. Why does there need to be a day devoted to love? Shouldn't every day be good enough to tell someone you love them?"

The rest of the group was groaning and looking as though they could swallow an entire bottle of poison, but Jessica was smiling.

"I see," she said coyly. "Obviously, you've never had a good Valentine's Day."

Hermione shot a scowl in her direction. "What do you mean? Every single Valentine's Day I've had has been…at least mediocre. Except one back in my Muggle school when I gave a card to Toby Reynolds and he shoved me into a puddle of mud."

"That's horrible!" Harry exclaimed, looking outraged.

"Harry, we were six. For all he knew, I had cooties."

"Well, clearly, Hermione, you haven't had a perfect Valentine's Day," Jessica continued, still smiling. "Once you do, your mind will be changed. I guarantee it."

Hermione frowned at the back of her head as she and Neville strode on ahead. What did she know? Valentine's Day simply wasn't that great. Before she could start arguing with Jessica again, Harry and Luna announced that they were going to Scrivenshaft's for more ink. Hermione rolled her eyes. There went the first of them.

The rest of them spent another half an hour in Dervish and Banges, finding little trinkets to buy one another before they got their _real_ Valentine's Day gifts. Hermione was again tempted to blast the decorations as hearts floated above the customer's heads and burst into red confetti. Once they left, Neville and Jessica decided to head to Zonko's for a bit, since it was apparently Jessica's favorite store. Hermione warned him never to let her near Fred and George before they left.

The next fifteen minutes were some of the most awkward of Hermione's life. Ginny insisted she wanted to go to Gladrags, but Hermione wasn't sure that was true, since all Ginny and Draco did was make moon eyes at each other. Hermione was fairly certain they were simply trying to make her feel like she wasn't being abandoned. She really wished they would abandon her, because being the third wheel was even worse. Especially when the saleswitches kept trying to get her to try on red dress robes with no sleeves and hardly any room to breathe, assuring her it would snare her a man in no time.

When they finally left after those fifteen minutes, Ginny and Draco were itching to leave. Finally, they told her that they were going to run into Madam Puddifoot's and be back to meet her outside Scrivenshaft's in a half an hour. Hermione bid them farewell and strolled the opposite way down the street in search of a nice, snowy bench to drench her bottom with.

She found one just outside Honeyduke's, but just as she was about to sit down, a wizard in a mixture of dark red and bright pink robes swept up, stuffing a bushel of red roses in her face.

"Would the lady like a rose?" he asked genially. "Just two Sickles for one rose! Two Sickles, two Knuts if you want it delivered to your Valentine on this special day!"

"No, thank you," she replied politely, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"And these aren't just any ordinary roses! Smell them!" he exclaimed, sticking them against her nose. "Grown in the finest greenhouses and watered with diluted Amortentia! One of a kind!"

Hermione's nose immediately said, 'Yes, please buy one!' It had been so long since she'd smelled that amazing combination. Unfortunately, that was a very dangerous road to take, so she shook her head and backed away from the flowers.

"Do you have any…uh, normal roses?" she asked politely.

The wizard scowled suddenly. "I try to give you special flowers and you want normal ones. Let me guess, if I tried to sell my normal ones, you'd want something extra special. Sheesh! Can't please you customers for anything!"

"I'm very sorry, sir, but I—"

"I believe she asked you a question."

Hermione whipped around and found, to her delight and surprise, Severus glowering down at the shorter wizard with his harshest expression. She barely contained a grin and turned to face the vendor again. He glared back up at Severus, although his was more of a pout. He huffed and faced Hermione.

"Regular roses are a Sickle apiece," he told her grudgingly.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you. I'll take one."

She dug in her pocket and handed over the silver piece, much to the delight of the vendor, who plucked a red rose from his robes and gave it to her. The man shot one last pout at Severus and then slunk away, thanking Hermione for her business. Hermione smiled and waved, twirling the rose in her fingers as she turned to face Severus. Somehow, after the comfortable evening they spent last night, she didn't feel quite so nervous in seeing him.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, then turned teasing. "You seem to be making a habit out of protecting me."

Severus smirked. "A habit I've not been able to shake since your unfortunate acquaintance with Potter and _his_ rather unhealthy habit of running into danger began."

She chuckled. "I'm surprised to see you here. Did the headmaster make you chaperone?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course. Is there any other way to celebrate this joyous occasion, other than by force?" he retorted sarcastically, sneering.

"I know what you mean," she sympathized, sighing.

His eyebrows rose questioningly and she smiled, gesturing in the direction of Madam Puddifoot's.

"My…friends, if you can call them that, dragged me here," she explained with a roll of her eyes. "And then, of course, abandoned me so that they could enjoy some private snogging without the third wheel, which I am quite used to by now."

"I take it you have not had good experiences with this holiday," he observed, gesturing for her to walk with him.

She obeyed immediately and sighed, thinking back over the years.

"Well, they weren't really…_bad_ experiences, I guess," she replied, still twirling the rose between her thumb and forefinger. "I just never saw the point. First year I didn't care about that sort of thing, and Harry and Ron and I were too busy trying to figure out who was trying to take the stone anyway. Well, _I_ was too busy trying to figure out who. They thought they had it pegged."

Hermione glanced up and found Severus smirking down at her knowingly. When he nodded in acknowledgement, she took it that he wanted her to go on.

"And second year, well…I was busy pretending to have an all-consuming love for Professor Lockhart so my friends wouldn't realize the truth of the matter," she admitted, feeling a blush coming on.

When she glanced up this time, Severus was nearly smiling—he was so close it was amazing.

"Third year I spent it with Harry and Ron, and we exchanged friendly cards, but, other than that, didn't really acknowledge it," she continued. "Fourth year I spent it with Viktor and we had a perfectly lovely time, except for the part where he tried to kiss me. We bumped noses, and then I dropped my bag and we bumped heads when we went to pick it up. I took it as a sign that I should not try to take it past the friends level with Viktor."

"Sound reasoning," Severus commented lowly.

She shot him a smile and went on. "Fifth year was when it started. Ginny and Ron dragged me off to celebrate and promised they wouldn't abandon me. Harry was off on a date with Cho, which I ended up interrupting after Ginny eventually abandoned me to snog Dean, and Ron abandoned me to snog some sixth year girl whose name I don't remember.

"Then last year, they promised again. But, sure enough, Harry and Ginny went off on their own and Ron went off with Lavender. Neville somehow ended up snogging Katie Bell, who I think was rather pissed, to be honest." She shrugged. "So, you see? Not exactly bad, just pointless."

Severus nodded and it took her a moment to realize they were stopped outside The Three Broomsticks. She gave him a puzzled look.

"I thought perhaps you might be hungry," he explained. "It is noon, after all."

"It is?" She glanced at her watch and groaned. "We must've been in that lousy Quidditch shop longer than I thought."

When she realized he was smirking at her and still waiting for an answer, Hermione started and flashed him a grin.

"O-of course. I am hungry. Thank you," she managed, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

Severus dipped his head and gestured for her to precede him. She tried to calm her racing mind as she tried to figure out what was happening. Was he asking her to lunch? She was going to have a meal with Severus? How was this even possible? Was it a date? No, it couldn't be a date. But…it _was_ Valentine's Day, and one didn't lightly ask someone to have a meal on that day.

Hermione shook her head. That was nonsense. Neither she nor Severus put much stock in Valentine's Day, obviously, so it didn't mean anything. She absently thanked him when he opened the door for her and found her way to her favorite table. She coached herself to relax as she went. She couldn't flip out again simply because he was making sure she ate.

Severus sat across from her and shifted in his seat, sweeping the room with his sharp gaze twice, as though to make sure there weren't any students to be punished. When he was satisfied, he returned his attention to her and she offered a brief smile as she pulled off her robe and scarf. She set the rose down on the table with her gloves and started scanning the menu, though she didn't need to.

There were plenty of Hogwarts students packed into the pub, but none of them seemed to notice their professor and former fellow student at the table nearby. Fortunately, they were all too engrossed in their meals and talking over each other to notice. And some were too busy working their way toward snogging, which Hermione was sure Severus would put a stop to as soon as they were in an embarrassing enough position.

Madam Rosmerta bustled over, smiling cheerily, although it faded a bit when she saw the two of them sitting together.

"Hello there! I'm so sorry for the wait," she greeted, despite herself. "What can I get you?"

Hermione folded her menu and glanced at Severus, who gestured for her to go ahead first. She smiled and turned back to Madam Rosmerta.

"A butterbeer and cottage pie, thank you," she said politely.

"And for you?" she asked, turning to Severus.

"Water will do, and the soup you've featured today."

"Lovely! It'll be up in a few!" Madam Rosmerta said, sweeping up their menus and bustling on her way.

Hermione glanced at Severus, twirling the rose idly, just for something to do. It was always so hard to get the conversation started. She wondered briefly why that was when she realized she'd done most of the talking and that she hadn't asked him about _his_ experiences with Valentine's Day. She cleared her throat and faced him, barreling on when she saw that he was clenching his jaw.

"So…you've had bad experiences with Valentine's Day?" she inquired curiously.

His eyes shot to her. "Some, yes. Even without the bad experiences, I do not see the point."

"Me, either." She sighed. "Especially the decorations. What on earth are people thinking when they decide that chubby cupids shooting their customers with bubble arrows are a good idea? Really, when are cupids _ever_ a good idea? Honestly, it's a ridiculous holiday and it only brings out how ridiculous people already are, and in the process makes the single people feel worthless, miserable, and even more alone than they do on a daily basis."

When she met his eyes, Severus was once again giving her that inscrutable look. Neither frown nor smile, something in between. All she knew was that it made heat spread between her legs and reminded her of that kiss in the library. And for reasons she couldn't have explained if she tried, she decided to be brave about this, too.

"What does it mean when you look at me like that?" Hermione asked interestedly.

Severus' face suddenly went dark and he scowled, which for some reason made her laugh.

"At least I know what _that_ means," she teased, smiling at him.

He arched a brow. "Oh? And what does it mean, Miss Granger?"

"It means that I _definitely_ shouldn't have asked what the first look meant," she replied confidently.

His lips twitched. "I see. And how did you come to this conclusion?"

"Experience," she retorted with a wide grin. "That's the same look you gave me every time I raised my hand for six years."

Severus almost smiled again. "Then experience should tell you what the other look meant as well, should it not?"

"I haven't had enough experience with that particular expression," she admitted. "You've only started giving it to me recently, as far as I can tell. It's only one of many I can't read anyway."

"Ah." He paused a moment, then sat up straighter. "I will make you a deal. Guess what my many unreadable expressions mean, and I will tell you if you are correct."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What's in it for you?"

He smirked again. "Amusement with your failed attempts and, I'm afraid, at your expense."

Hermione chuckled. "Okay, fair enough. Uh…does it mean 'I'm not even listening to you anymore'?"

"Not even close," he said simply.

"Does it mean…'I'm plotting ways to silence you'?" she inquired, half-teasing.

"Still nowhere near being correct."

Hermione laughed. "This is going to be fun."

Severus' lips twitched, but he made no comment.

* * *

Two hours later found their chairs miraculously only inches apart and their bowls empty. Most of the Hogwarts students left an hour ago, either because Severus deducted points for inappropriate public behavior or because they'd finished lunch. A few of Hermione's former classmates stared at her on their way out, but when she waved and smiled, they had no choice but to wave back, since if they didn't Severus would only glare harder.

They'd been deep in discussion about the latest academic article in the _Prophet_ for some time, but now were sitting in companionable silence. Madam Rosmerta occasionally came by to refill their waters, as Hermione had switched off of butterbeer before she got too tipsy to carry on a conversation.

Hermione was amazed to find how comfortable she was with their shared silence. It was rare that she found a person she could just _be_ with, and not need to talk. Normally she would grow uncomfortable and begin chattering, which she'd done with Severus a time or two as well, but today she was at ease. It felt all right to be quiet.

Eventually, Severus sat up straight and picked up the bill from where Madam Rosmerta set it.

"Professor Sinistra is chaperoning as well," he told her. "However, I must see to it that she is not letting the students commit too many offenses."

She nodded, disappointed but understanding. He had a job to do, after all. She pulled her robe off of the back of the chair and started digging in the pocket.

"All right. I'll just pay for my half and—"

"That won't be necessary," he said firmly, gesturing with the bill. "I will see that it is paid and be along in a moment."

Hermione could only stare at him. What did that mean? Was he coming with her? But he'd just said he needed to chaperone…. _Calm down. You're overanalyzing again_, she instructed sternly. She forced herself to nod and stood with him, swinging on her robe.

"Right. I'll just be outside then," she said uncertainly.

Severus dipped his head and she pulled on her scarf on the way to the door. Once outside, she had to stop to bundle up and pull on her gloves, at which point she realized she'd forgotten her rose inside. She huffed and turned to go back in to retrieve it, but she heard several voices calling her name.

"Hermione!"

"Hermione, we've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Where have you been?!"

"We thought somebody grabbed you or something!"

She lifted her hands to quell anymore of her friends' exclamations. They gathered around her with folded arms, and she found herself backing up so that Severus would be sure to see that she hadn't disappeared on him.

"If you had gone into the pub, you would've found me," Hermione told them patiently.

"We thought you'd be at the bookstore," Harry said sourly.

"We went through the whole bloody store looking for you," Draco added, scowling.

"Well, I'm sorry you had to go through that torment," she replied, rolling her eyes. "It was wrong of me to want to eat."

"Miss Granger," Severus said sharply. "I believe you left this inside."

He held out the rose gingerly, as though it were going to reach out and bite him. Hermione winced at the unhappy scowl on his face, but took the rose gratefully, ignoring the fascinated looks on her friends' faces.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I was just catching up with my friends." She turned to them. "So I'll see you at dinner tonight? Lovely. I'm glad you're all having such a wonderful time. Bye!"

With that, Hermione turned on her heel, smiled up at Severus, and gestured down the street.

"Shall we?"

Severus' lips twitched, eyes shining with amusement. He dipped his head and motioned for her to precede him. She rippled her fingers at her friends and started off down the street, allowing herself a private grin at the incredulous looks on their faces.

* * *

"I can't believe it," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"I know. It's unbelievable," Harry agreed, glancing at a puzzled Luna.

"What? What's unbelievable?" Jessica asked curiously. "That she's spending the day with the Greasy Git? That's definitely odd, but I've always gotten the sense that Hermione is an odd girl."

Harry sighed. "Neville? If you plan on staying with this girl, talk to her about the Greasy Git thing, okay?"

Neville blushed and nodded rapidly, smiling reassuringly at Jessica.

"What's unbelievable is that _she_ ditched _us_," Ginny retorted. "That never happens!"

"At least she ditched us for Snape," Draco said, rubbing Ginny's arm up and down.

"True." Ginny smiled. "I can't wait to tease her about this later."

* * *

After another two hours with Severus, most of which was spent in the bookstore, it was time to head back to Hogwarts for dinner. Hermione helped him and Sinistra in rounding up the stragglers, and then walked with Severus at the end of the trail of students. Usually she would've felt too nervous and intrusive to spend so much time around him, but he didn't seem to mind in the least.

Besides, she was feeling so at ease with him now that she'd almost completely lost that sense of panic that usually followed her when it came to Severus. She even felt comfortable arguing with him a little, and he seemed to enjoy it, as well. The only time he seemed to tense up was when they were around too many gawking students. Then he would grow uncomfortable and silent, almost unreachable, until she managed to bring him back with a joke or a new discussion topic.

When they arrived back in the entrance hall, Severus stopped at the stairs that would take her back up to her quarters. Hermione paused and turned on the first step, offering a warm smile. He opened his mouth to speak, but she had a feeling it would be a goodbye, so she cut in.

"Professor," she began, pausing when his eyes shot to hers. "I want to thank you for a lovely Valentine's Day. I think it's the first one I can honestly say I enjoyed. And, for once, it wasn't completely pointless." She smiled.

Severus gazed at her for a long time, running his eyes over her and heating her up again. Hermione waited patiently for his reply, trying not to guess what he was thinking, since that would likely lead to panic and nervousness again.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger," he said at length. "I will see you on Friday evening."

He dipped his head and went to walk away, pausing when she called, "I'm looking forward to it." Hermione allowed herself another smile as Severus walked away, then trotted up the stairs to get dressed for dinner. She was so excited for the coming weeks she could hardly wait.


	19. Seventh Year: Part Eleven

**Disclaimer:** I really don't own anything.

**A/N:** I'm so sorry for how late this is. I've been really sick recently and haven't felt like writing, and I've been working really hard on this and the next chapter—they're tough ones, so I hope you like what I came out with.

* * *

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time since she woke up and came down for breakfast. She was beginning to regret rolling out of bed at all. Dinner had been perfectly pleasant the night before, but her friends had only been lulling her into a false sense of security with all their teasing of Neville and 'where things are going' with Jessica. Now they were lobbing grenades at her left and right.

"No, he did not take my arm," she informed them, barreling on when she saw Ginny open her mouth. "And before you ask, no. He did not kiss me, touch me, make any inappropriate or ungentlemanly gestures, jokes, or remarks, and, for the last time, it was not a date."

"It was so a date!" Ginny protested immediately.

"I love that man," Draco said airily, sighing. "He is my idol."

Hermione shot a puzzled look his way before waving her hand dismissively at the insistent redhead.

"It wasn't a date," she said firmly. "It was two friends spending a senseless holiday together. And Draco, what are you talking about? I thought you didn't really like him."

"Well, we don't ever talk," he allowed, shrugging, "and he hasn't been the greatest godfather. But what I meant is, he took you on a date without you even realizing it. He's a genius."

"It wasn't a date," she retorted sharply.

"He bought you a rose, Hermione," Harry interjected, shaking his head. "That sounds like a date to me."

"He didn't buy me the rose," she corrected. "_I_ bought it from some street vendor."

"You said he defended you again, though," Neville put in curiously.

Hermione heaved a sigh. "Yes, he did. But it was only because the man got unnecessarily irritated with me when I said I wanted a normal rose."

"As opposed to…a flesh-eating electric blue rose?" Ginny asked with a furrowed brow.

"He was selling Amortentia-scented roses."

"Oh. That explains it."

"Wait, wait. Was this vendor like…average height, brown hair and eyes?" Draco inquired, suddenly very interested.

Hermione thought back for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Why?"

"And he had a curly moustache, pointy beard? _Really_ tacky robes?" he persisted, ignoring the latter part of her answer.

"Yes. Do you know this man?" she retorted.

"Yeah, that's Uncle Larry," Draco replied, sitting back again.

Ginny frowned at him. "Who's Uncle Larry?"

"Larkin Marius the third. Some distant relative of my father's," he explained with a shrug. "I've only met him a couple times, but he's not the friendliest, or sanest, wizard in the family. He was a big supporter of Voldemort, but since he lived in Romania at the time, it was hard for him to join in. He was involved in the deaths of some Muggles there, though, I think."

"That's awful!" Ginny exclaimed.

"So he killed people, and he's still running around free?" Harry demanded, a bit of an edge to his voice.

Luna began stroking his shoulders, which immediately calmed Harry a little. Ginny leaned back into the arc of Draco's arm and watched him expectantly.

"No one was ever able to tie him to the deaths," Draco clarified.

"Then how do you know he involved?" Hermione asked, shooting a glance at a frowning Harry.

"He grew flowers with poison in them and sold them to whoever fell for his sales pitch," Draco retorted, shaking his head. "Since Muggles don't know about magic, it was fairly easy. It's not like any of the policemen were going to automatically jump to the conclusion that the lilies they bought from some crazy salesman must've killed them.

"Besides, there aren't many Aurors there, and any wizarding officials are really just there to make sure the dragons don't kill anyone."

Harry was scowling. "What is he doing in Hogsmeade?"

"My father helped him settle in back in November. He wanted a change of pace, I guess. He hates Muggles, so he decided to come to a wizarding town and sell his flowers-for-every-occasion to people he can actually tolerate. I think he's actually setting up a shop somewhere."

"Creepy," Neville commented.

"I always thought so," Draco said calmly. "Dad, however, really seemed to like him. But then again, he liked Aunt Bellatrix, so he's probably not the best judge of character."

"How do we know he won't murder wizards, too?" Hermione pressed.

"He won't. He may not like Muggle-borns, but he thinks they're better than Muggles. At least they can do magic. Besides, he can't tell if someone is a Muggle-born simply by looking at them."

Harry huffed. "Well, someone ought to do something about him anyway. What if he starts wandering into Muggle London and just happens to sell some poisonous flowers there?"

"I doubt he will. Like I said, Romania didn't have many Aurors running around to stop him," he assured them. "Trust me. The man is too much of a coward to go up against the Ministry."

Luna stroked Harry's hair once and he offered her a brief smile before swinging his arm around her shoulders and relaxing. Draco grinned up at Ginny, who smiled and kissed his cheek.

"All right. Now, if the Dynamic Duo is done tag-teaming me," Draco said smoothly, winking at Hermione and Harry, "we can get back to discussing the big date."

"Sorry, Draco. We're just used to trying to solve things, I suppose," Hermione said quickly.

Harry smiled. "You know what they say: 'old habits die hard.'"

"Nice evasive tactic, Hermione," Ginny cut in, giving her a thumbs-up. "But we're talking about this whether you like it or not."

She groaned. "Must we?"

"I thought you'd decided to think about him rationally," Harry pointed out.

"I _am_. He didn't say it was a date, so I'm assuming it wasn't," she retorted vehemently. "I'm not denying that I had a lovely time and that we're friends. All I'm saying is that it wasn't a date."

"He paid for your meal, didn't he?" Luna asked, tone light and cheerful, unlike the others'. She smiled. "That was nice of him."

"That man is amazing," Draco commented breathlessly. "He didn't pay for the rose, to further the façade of a casual meeting, and then he swooped in and paid for your meal so it would still count as a date. Pure brilliance."

Hermione glowered at him, so Neville cut in before she snapped his head off.

"You know, just because he didn't say it doesn't mean it wasn't," he said slowly. "I mean, it's Snape. He's not exactly going to say to you—" he paused to deepen his voice several octaves "—'By the way, Miss Granger, this is a date. I fully expect all the benefits that come with such a label. Carry on.'"

Hermione couldn't help but crack a smile, while the others were practically rolling on the floor. Harry was panting for recovery as he spoke.

"Yeah, and it's not just Snape," he managed, grinning. "What kind of bloke says to a girl, 'Uh, just so you know, this is a date. Okay?'? You don't want to insult her intelligence."

"Or freak her out," Draco added. "This way, if her friends later convince her it was a date and she asks you, you can deny everything to reassure her that you're still 'just friends.'" He paused to consider. "Of course, if she has the 'hopeful look', then you can tell her, 'Well, I thought it was a date, but if you don't feel that way….' And she'll most likely jump in with, 'No, I did, too!' And be very excited."

"Hey! That's what you did to me!" Ginny exclaimed, smacking his arm.

The rest of them bust out laughing again, while Draco just grinned up at her. He rubbed her arms comfortingly while she pouted.

"Can you blame me? After five years of bullying and arguing, I had to have a back-up, in case you weren't really interested that way." He kissed her shoulder. "But I don't play games like that with you anymore, so can you forgive me?"

Ginny eyed him mock-warily. "I guess I can. This time."

Draco grinned and they proceeded to snog until Harry cleared his throat.

"So, Hermione, after he—" Ginny began.

"Okay, can we please, _please_ talk about something else?" Hermione begged. "I have been trying to bask in what a wonderful day I had with Severus, and you're ruining it with all of your 'it was a date' nonsense."

There was a collective sigh and exchange of glances.

"Fine. We can talk about something else," Harry said grumpily.

"Yeah, whatever you want," Neville agreed, though he was pouting a bit, too.

"Thank you."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when they all went silent. At long last. Maybe she could read one of the books she'd brought along in the hopes that she might actually be able to focus….

"You know, you totally ditched us," Ginny said suddenly.

Hermione gaped at her. "You ditched me first!"

Or maybe not. From there, it descended back into chaos, until it was time for lunch.

* * *

"Did you sleep okay last night?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, Harry. I slept fine. And I ate all of my breakfast, and I haven't been working too hard. As you can see, I'm only reading the _Prophet_, which is a leisure activity that will not render me too exhausted to practice wandless magic tonight."

"Okay, okay," he replied, raising his hands defensively. "Sorry."

She offered him a brief smile and went back to perusing the column. Harry shifted in his spot next to her, drumming the table with his fingers. Friday mornings were often like this now that she didn't have much to do, and Harry had a free period after breakfast, which he was supposed to use for studying, according to the schedule she'd given him. Instead, he seemed determined to spend the time hanging around her.

"I know we've all been bugging you a lot lately about Snape and…everything," Harry ventured cautiously, "but it's only because we love you. We want to be sure you're okay."

Hermione huffed and plopped down the newspaper.

"I'm fine," she said firmly. "Really. You don't have to worry about me, and I'm sick of talking about me and Severus, and me and my classes, and me and my final projects. I want to talk about you. How are you? What's going on with you?"

He shrugged. "Not much. You know basically everything."

"No, I don't. What are your plans for today?" she asked interestedly, folding the paper and resting it between them.

"Well…after this I have Herbology," he replied slowly, apparently needing to think on it, "and tonight I scheduled a Quidditch practice, since tomorrow we have a game against Ravenclaw. Oh! And I'm having a date with Luna tomorrow night, courtesy of Dobby and the Room of Requirement."

She smiled. "Sounds great."

"Yep."

"So. Quidditch. How's that going?" she inquired, automatically bracing herself for three hours of statistics and commentating.

Harry smiled fondly at her. "You don't have to do that, you know. Since Ron stopped talking to us, I sort of found a new Quidditch-talking partner. Not because I wanted to, mind you, but I know how tired you get of it when I just go on and on."

"Well, who did you find?" she asked interestedly. "Seamus? Dean?"

He shifted a bit. "Actually…Draco."

"Really?"

"Really."

"That's so great," she praised, nodding approvingly.

He nodded. "Yeah, we agree on things, for the most part. It's pretty fun."

There was a long moment of silence in which Hermione tried to think of other things to ask him, while Harry looked around the mostly empty Great Hall in search of something to comment on. She eventually chuckled to herself and he eyed her quizzically.

"Remember when we had all kinds of things to talk about?" she asked, smiling at him.

He laughed. "Yeah, when almost every day we were nearly killed? D'you think we've actually run out of things to talk about?"

"Probably not," she assured him, shaking her head. "It's just that nothing really exciting has happened recently, in any part of our lives. And we see one another every day, so there's really nothing new to bring up."

"Yeah. Maybe if Ron were talking to us, he'd be able to—whoa!"

"What? What is it?" she asked, alarmed.

He lifted the _Prophet_ from the table and shoved it under her nose, although she didn't know why, since a moment later he started reading it aloud.

"'Nathaniel Laurence, 56, of Stranraer, Scotland, was murdered on Monday of this week, at his small magical amenities store. The body was found by neighbor Laurinda Turnbill at ten in the morning when she came to borrow his milk.'" He paused, frowning. "I don't know why we needed to know that, but anyway, 'Coroners have approximated that Laurence had been dead for nine hours before he was found, and they have concluded that the cause of death was strangulation.'"

Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry and knew what he was thinking: that was odd. There were magical sensors everywhere that would pick up dark magic, but strangling? Of the few wizard murders that ever occurred, most were done using the Killing Curse, since the sensors did not pick up who did it.

"'The murder weapon has not yet been found, although Aurors are launching a full investigation. Laurence was a well-liked wizard in his community.'" Harry stopped there, since the rest was all about Laurence's life, then took a breath. "Strangled to death."

Hermione nodded. "I know. And it had to have been a wizard, or else they would've found fingerprints, and his store would've been broken into."

"A Death Eater wouldn't strangle someone," Harry said firmly. "Would they?"

She shook her head. "It's not usually their style, but I suppose—"

"Hey, Hermione."

She looked up sharply to find Asher standing there with his hands deep in the pockets of his robe. His face was bright red, but he was smiling like he used to, and she couldn't help but grin at him.

"Hello, Asher."

She glanced at Harry, who nodded. Asher returned it, then cleared his throat, and very deliberately bounced away. Hermione exchanged a brief smile with Harry, who patted her on the back.

"Progress," he commented.

She nodded. "Thank Merlin. Anyway, I suppose it's _possible_ that a Death Eater could've done it. Still, it seems off. The most outspoken, violent Death Eaters are in Azkaban, and the others are all under close surveillance."

"What are you two talking about?" Ron asked from Hermione's right.

"Someone was murdered in Stranraer," Harry replied casually.

Hermione went to add the details, but she and Harry realized what just happened at the same moment. They gave one another puzzled looks, then slowly turned to look at Ron, who was nodding.

"Loose Death Eater?" he asked, as though nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

Harry frowned suspiciously. "Maybe…."

Hermione eyed Ron warily, but he didn't change expression until he heard Lavender calling for him. He turned to call back that he was coming, then smiled briefly at Hermione and Harry.

"I'll see you later, then?" he asked as he stood.

"I…I guess," Harry replied uncertainly.

Ron nodded and then strolled away nonchalantly, as though he hadn't just been idly chatting with the two people he'd been ignoring for two months. Hermione frowned privately. She really missed Ron, and she knew Harry did, too, but she wasn't quite ready to forgive him. He'd called Severus a Death Eater. That was almost unpardonable.

She glanced up at Harry, who looked bewildered.

"Why is everyone choosing _today_ to make up with us?" she asked.

He chuckled. "I have no idea. Especially when we just got a new mystery to solve. Why would they want to interrupt that?"

"I've no idea," she said, smiling. "Anyway, while you're in Herbology, I'll look through books on history of crime, see if there's any thread that can be followed."

"Good idea. You might want to look through some of the volumes on Voldemort again as well," Harry added thoughtfully. "Just in case there are any instances of abnormal murders."

She nodded in agreement and Harry shook his head again, sighing.

"It's so odd. Who would strangle someone in the wizarding world?"

"And let's not forget: who had motive to kill a middle-aged storekeeper who led a relatively peaceful life?"

* * *

The silver pocket watch flew straight into Hermione's palm once again and she smiled over at Severus, who observed her from his chair. He nodded his approval and she set the watch down on the table again, set to repeat the exercise. She sincerely hoped they moved on to something a bit more interesting soon, since she'd been practicing summoning the watch for two sessions now.

Before she could think the spell, Severus tucked his legs beneath him and stood with a heavy exhale.

"That'll do for tonight," he informed her, summoning the watch himself and tucking it into a pocket.

Hermione nodded once. "Then I'll see you next Friday?" she asked hopefully.

He dipped his head. "We will be moving on to something a bit more complex."

"Are you tiring of watching me summon your watch over and over and over again?" she teased, smiling freely at him.

Severus' lips twitched. "On the contrary, I find it rather…entertaining."

For some reason, the way he said that made her blush. She wasn't sure what it was about his voice when he spoke that way. It was almost hoarse, but not quite, and it always elicited a tingle that went straight through her centre.

"However, I believe you have, as usual, mastered the art of wandless summoning far more quickly than most," he continued, more seriously now. "It's time to move on."

"Lovely." She shifted uncertainly. "I guess…good night, then."

After offering a smile, Hermione turned to leave, but Severus apparently wasn't done with her.

"Miss Granger," he purred, lowly enough to make her freeze in place.

She adjusted her robes surreptitiously as she turned about, watching him expectantly. Severus' smirk faded gradually and he took a breath, looking annoyed instead.

"Professor McGonagall has informed me…many, many times," he began tiredly, rolling his eyes, "that you do rather well with teaching lessons in her class."

"Well, I'm no trained professor, but I enjoy it," she replied, not sure where this was going.

"Next week, in my advanced class, I am teaching the seventh years to perform a powerful blocking spell. You are likely familiar with it, the _Contego_ spell," he prompted, brow raising.

"Oh, yes. I've never had to use it myself, except for the N.E.W.T. once, but I've read…about it," she finished sheepishly.

Severus smirked. "Indeed. As it is such an advanced spell, perhaps you might indulge me in demonstrating it for the class. Before they proceed to shatter every bit of glass in the room in their miserable attempts at it."

Hermione started, surprised. He'd only said it once, and she hadn't really believed him at the time. But this was indisputable proof: he really did have faith in her abilities. He had to, if he trusted her enough to ask her to demonstrate a spell in front of his advanced class. She wasn't sure if she had that much faith in her own abilities. There had to be someone better, didn't there? Harry! Harry was _much_ better at Defense Against the Dark Arts than she was.

"I-I would be honored," she assured him, then swallowed. "But…wouldn't someone like Harry be better?" Severus' brow arched and she hurried on. "I just mean…he's really very good at the subject—he even got an 'O' when he took his O.W.L. I only got an 'Exceeds Expectations.'"

"Potter has not attempted this N.E.W.T. level spell, has he?" Severus inquired with a sneer.

"Well, no, but I'm sure he could do it with a little practice," she replied earnestly. "I know the two of you don't get along very well, but you might be able to find something to agree on when it comes to the Dark Arts. You both—"

He raised a hand and she immediately fell silent, her hope dying a little when she saw the scowl on his face.

"I realize it may prove difficult for you that Potter and I do not get along," he said, although his voice was so low it may as well have been a murmur. "For my part, I will attempt to ease the burden on you by simply avoiding the boy. That is all I can promise, and I must ask that you do not expect me to like him."

Severus gazed at her intently when he was finished, and Hermione slowly nodded. It was a lot to ask for such long-standing adversaries to grow to like each other, she knew. At least he was promising to avoid interactions with Harry in order to decrease the amount of time they would spend arguing. For her.

She almost gaped at him, but kept her mouth shut tight. Again, this time, there was no disputing it: he was doing this for her. Not because of some other obligation, like he likely had been with his godson. It was simply because it would be too hard on her if they were at each other's throats all the time. _And_ he was implying that their friendship would continue. Maybe even after the end of the year!

Hermione smiled a little. "Of course. Thank you."

He nodded once. "Then you will agree to the demonstration?"

"I still think someone else might be better," she said uncertainly. "Perhaps Drac—" At the exasperated scowl on his face, she cleared her throat and backtracked. "But you…want me to do it. So…yes, I will." She smiled again.

"You have too little esteem," he commented, but went on before she could come up with a reply to that. "I will see to it that Professor Flitwick will agree to allow you to come for the class on Thursday."

"All right. Thank you. Again."

He dipped his head and she shifted from one foot to another, feeling as though she should shake his hand or…hug him or something. At length, she cleared her throat again and backed toward the door.

"Good night," Hermione said cheerfully, even as she clasped the knob behind her back.

"Good night," Severus replied.

She smiled once more and left him in peace.

* * *

On Thursday, after lunch, Hermione trotted to catch up with Harry and Neville on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. She'd checked with Flitwick early that morning to be sure that everything was set and practically bounced her way through the day when he assured her it would be all right. She knew class wasn't time to socialize or have five hour discussions, but it was another chance to see Severus nonetheless.

She was just wondering how he would greet her presence when she noticed Harry and Neville staring at her. She tilted her head curiously.

"What?"

"We just asked you what you were doing walking with us," Harry repeated, frowning. "Aren't you supposed to be going to Flitwick's class?"

"Oh!" Hermione laughed. "I'm so sorry I forgot to tell you! Severus asked me to demonstrate a spell during class today, and Professor Flitwick was kind enough to let me."

"Did you sleep with a hanger in your mouth?" Neville asked.

She wiped her mouth self-consciously, but the smile didn't go away. In fact, when she fought it, it turned into a grin.

"She's been like this all week," Harry informed Neville, shaking his head. "I should've known something was up."

"You were probably too busy basking in the win against Ravenclaw," he replied.

"And the big date with Luna," Hermione added, laughing when Harry automatically grinned. "How did that go, by the way?"

"Oh. Fine." He beamed at her. "You know."

Neville smirked across at Hermione and she grinned right back. Harry cleared his throat and managed to straighten his expression by the time they reached the classroom door.

"Did you find time to head to the library?" he asked as they stopped in line.

"Yes, but no luck," she replied, drooping a bit. "Most murders were committed by the Killing Curse, but there were a couple of stabbings, one by bullet—but a Muggle accidentally shot the wizard. Nothing on suffocating or strangling."

"Morbid," Neville commented.

"Someone was murdered in Stranraer," Harry explained, "but they were strangled."

He frowned. "That seems odd."

"Exactly."

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

They all turned to find that Draco abandoned Crabbe and Goyle and his spot at the front of the line to come talk to them. Harry exchanged a smile with Hermione, who turned to answer the curious Slytherin.

"Severus asked me to demonstrate a spell in your class today," she explained.

"And I didn't hear about this because…?" he prompted suspiciously.

"She was so busy delighting in the fact that he asked her to do it that she completely forgot to tell any of her friends," Harry finished, plopping his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"I meant to tell you!" she exclaimed, growing indignant when Draco arched a brow at her. "Honest! It merely slipped my mind."

"Ginny is going to be on you like a bloodhound when she finds out, you know," he informed her, smirking slyly.

"More like a pitbull," Neville mumbled, shaking his head.

Harry laughed. "That actually is a pretty accurate comparison. Once Ginny grabs onto something, she won't let it go."

"And prying her jaws off of it really does take a lot of effort," Hermione agreed, nodding.

"Say what you like—she's still the most adorable pitbull I've ever encountered," Draco said superiorly.

Before any of them could come up with a response, the classroom door swung open and hit the wall with a slam that echoed down the corridor. Severus sneered at the gathered students as his black eyes ran over every single one of them, making Neville's cheeks go red, as usual. Harry's arm dropped from Hermione's shoulders as though she'd singed him, and she glanced up at him in confusion before meeting Severus' eyes.

She smiled as she met his gaze, ignoring that he was still scowling quite fiercely at all of them. After all, he couldn't show the slightest sign of softness, or the student body would start to doubt his authority. Severus offered an almost imperceptible nod and stepped back.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" he snapped, and Hermione felt herself wince at the familiar harshness of his tone. "Inside, immediately."

The group moved into action simultaneously and they all shuffled inside as quickly as possible. Hermione caught sight of Asher amongst the three Hufflepuffs still taking the class, but his gaze never traveled her way. Ron's flaming red head was next to Dean's finely combed black hair up ahead of them, and the Slytherins were all inside and out of sight in a flash, except for Draco, who hung back with them.

As she passed through the door behind the boys, Severus stepped forward to block her way and motioned for her to follow him before turning sharply on his heel and striding to the front of the room. He gestured for her to wait near his desk, so Hermione found a spot on the wall and leaned up against it, looking out over her former fellow students as they listened to Severus begin the class.

Most were avidly listening, since if they didn't they would probably get point deductions. There were a few, however, who were off in their own little world. Including Ron and Asher, who couldn't seem to stop staring at her; confusion was written all over their faces. Nott and some of the other Slytherins were snickering and whispering to each other, although Crabbe and Goyle went quiet as soon as Draco glanced back at them.

Even in this room full of students, Hermione had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Which she was, by Ron, Asher, and the Slytherins, but it was the tingle up her spine that indicated it was Severus watching her. She tried to ignore as best she could, seeing as he couldn't possibly be watching her when he had an entire classroom to keep an eye on. It was only when she gestured for Asher to pay attention that she realized Severus had to be watching her.

Asher blinked, uncomprehending, as Hermione waved for him to look at Severus, not her. She huffed irritably, but before she could come up with another way to get the message across, Severus moved directly in front of Asher.

"Mr. Twiddlorf," he barked angrily.

Asher jumped and looked up at Severus, still smiling as he always did.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, almost cheerfully.

"Is there a problem?" Severus inquired sharply.

Hermione had a feeling Asher wasn't getting the lightest version of Severus' glowers, for that ever-present smile faded just the tiniest bit.

"No, sir," he said flatly.

"Then see to it that your attention remains on the lesson, not on what Miss Granger is doing," he snarled, then turned on his heel and swept to the front of the room. "Note that ten points will be taken from Hufflepuff."

The three of them groaned and Asher sighed, shaking his head. Even though he was still smiling. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look, but when a chill ran up her spine, she turned her gaze onto Severus, who was arching a brow at her. She found her attention wandering down to the buttons on his frock and the lean body they contained. Before her mind could wander, Severus moved and began lecturing again, more intensely now.

Eventually, Severus returned to the head of the room and came to the conclusion of the lecture. To Hermione's great amusement, Harry was biting his lip so hard he was almost pink. He must've decided to be on his best behavior while she was there, she decided. Normally, he wouldn't hold back at all.

"…I have asked Miss Granger to demonstrate this spell for the class," Severus was saying, eyeing them all darkly. "Mr. Nott, come to the head of the room."

Nott immediately leapt out of his chair and grinned at his friends, who giggled madly about something or other. Hermione's attention went to Severus, for he approached her and gestured for her to stand in front of his desk. She pushed off of the wall and obeyed, shooting him a brief smile as she passed him by.

"Whenever you are ready, Miss Granger," Severus purred from behind her.

She nodded back at him and took a breath, preparing to cast the spell. It made more sense that he needed her to demonstrate now that he'd explained to the class why this spell was more powerful; it protected the caster from all sides, and so he needed a third party to show how this worked. She lifted her arm, but only got as far as thinking 'con' when Nott lifted his wand and shouted, "_Reducto_!"

Hermione was flung backward, hitting the floor several feet away from the Slytherin. She hissed at the stinging in her rump and the throbbing in her chest where the spell hit her. Her head was spinning from the fast travel, but she gritted her teeth and sat up anyway. Nott was smirking at her from across the room, despite the fact that half the boys were either halfway out of their chairs or standing, red in the face and clutching their wands.

Since she wasn't being further attacked, she didn't bother to retaliate, although she kept her wand firmly in hand. Someone's hands cupped her elbows and began lifting her from the floor, so she struggled to place her feet underneath her body and push off to help them. Once she was standing, she reached out to steady herself, and the hands tightened around her arms. Severus was nowhere to be seen, and she realized with a jolt that he must be the hands holding her up.

Hermione shook her head and glared at Nott, who was still smirking in that self-satisfied way.

"Ten points from Slytherin," she heard herself snap.

Nott's eyes widened and several heads turned to look at her at once. Hermione folded her arms and raised her chin defiantly, ignoring the goose bumps that spread over her skin when Severus' hand released her arm and smoothed over her back. Nott looked beyond her at Severus.

"Can she do that?" he demanded, voice squeaking a little.

Hermione winced. Technically, she wasn't allowed to—she was only an apprentice, so that particular privilege was not in her job description. She glanced up at Severus, whose hand remained a solid weight against her back, as though to make sure she didn't stumble again. His eyes were narrowed on Nott, jaw clenched so tightly she was worried he would break his teeth. He sneered at the boy and nodded once, sharply. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Indeed," he hissed, in that dangerous tone of his that had Nott paling, "and if she hadn't, I would have deducted twenty."

Hermione couldn't help it: she sniffed superiorly at Nott, who glared briefly at her and folded his arms, pouting. Severus slowly took his hand off her back before passing her and closing in on Nott, who was suddenly pale and quivering again.

"As it is, you will receive detention with Mr. Filch Saturday evening," Severus said darkly. "Back to your seat, Nott. Now."

The Slytherin shot back to his seat faster than you could say 'Snitch.' Severus glowered at the boy for a moment, then turned his attention to the rest of the class. Harry was still standing, although now he was gazing at her, rather than glowering at Nott. She nodded to assure him that she was all right, and he exhaled with relief.

"Sit down, you ridiculous children," Severus snarled, and Draco, Neville, Ron, and Asher dropped back into their seats like their bums were made of lead. Harry was a bit more graceful about it.

Severus' gaze turned back to Hermione, and she straightened immediately, although she kept her arms folded. She felt as though she was burning up with a fever and she hadn't had a drink in months. She wet her lips in what she hoped was an inconspicuous manner and tried to force her mind back to the task at hand. The _Contego_ spell. She could think about what it might feel like to have his hands in other places, with less clothing, later.

"Shall we continue?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Of course."

His gaze flicked over her twice, and then he turned back to the class.

"Mr. Malfoy," he barked, making Draco jump a little. "Up front."

"Yes, sir."

Draco smiled weakly at Hermione and bounded up to the front, pulling out his wand as he went.

* * *

After a successful demonstration with Draco and the disastrous practices for the rest of the class, Hermione, Harry, Draco, and Neville trudged out of the classroom together, happy to be heading off to dinner at last. Hermione linked arms with Harry and Draco on the way, bumping shoulders with them playfully.

"That was so hard," Neville groused, frowning. "I don't know how I'm ever going to survive to the end of the year."

"You'll be fine," Hermione assured him. "You just need some extra practice time."

"Yeah, maybe if I had a year and a different teacher," he grumbled.

"That's a hard spell for everyone," Harry said encouragingly. "It'll just take some time."

"It only took you until class was almost over," Neville replied, pouting. "Nobody else even came close."

"I almost had it," Draco commented, falling silent when Hermione shot him a look.

"Harry excels in Defense," Hermione said cheerfully. "You can't expect to catch on as quickly as he can in that subject."

"How did _you_ know how to do it?" Neville asked curiously.

"It's on the N.E.W.T.," she explained, shrugging.

"Oh, so that's how your boyfriend knew he could ask you," Draco said coyly.

She rolled her eyes. "He's not my boyfriend, and I think he only asked because Professor McGonagall told him I was good at teaching. Apparently many times."

"Maybe so, but he didn't kill Nott with his eyes because Professor McGonagall told him to," Harry retorted, grinning cheekily.

"Don't tell me you still think he's indifferent to you," Draco said when she didn't respond.

Hermione smiled. "Of course not. He obviously cares about me on some level."

All three boys cheered so loudly they drew some stares, and Hermione found herself laughing as Harry bounced around her in a circle. He grabbed up her arm again and twirled her twice before letting Draco take her other arm again.

"I'm not sure I want to see what you'll do to me if I decide he loves me," Hermione commented, eliciting grins from all three boys.

Draco sighed. "I can't wait to tell Ginny."

* * *

The next morning, Ron watched Harry and Hermione laughing with Neville and Ginny over breakfast. He felt a pang of longing, as he often did lately when he saw them. He missed talking about Quidditch and classes and…well, _everything_ with Harry. And he missed playfully arguing with Hermione, and even how she bossed him around sometimes. He'd seen Draco with a color-coded schedule during Potions one day and nearly burst with jealousy.

Lavender was right, he'd realized. He wasn't being very fair to Hermione. He should be supporting her now so he could be there when that slimy bastard broke her heart. Although, after that display in class the previous day, Ron was starting to have doubts about Snape breaking her heart. He'd thought Snape was going to kill Nott right there in front of everybody.

The image of Snape and Hermione together was still nauseating, but was it really worth throwing away his friendships with both Harry and Hermione? Harry hadn't thought so, and he hated Snape more than anyone Ron knew.

Ron shook his head and raked his fork through his scrambled eggs, ignoring Lavender and Parvati talking about some new fashion trend. He didn't feel much like eating.

There was a screech above his head and several owls flew into the Great Hall, dropping letters and packages into the laps of the students below. Hedwig stopped briefly in front of Harry before taking off, and Harry flourished the envelope and announced that it was a letter from Remus before tearing it open. Hermione squeezed up next to him, eagerly reading over his shoulder.

Ron was distracted from his friend-watching when Fred and George's owl landed in front of him, stretching out a leg. Ron frowned. He never got mail from Fred and George—they always attached messages to him in their letters to home and Mum reported them. So he tentatively untied the envelope from the owl's leg and the bird took off as though the devil were after it.

Ron scratched his head and, as carefully as possible, broke the seal. Nothing happened, so he pulled out the letter and began reading through it.

"_Dear Little Bro,_

_What are you thinking?! Mum __and__ Ginny have written us about this business with Hermione, and it's got to stop. Hermione is allowed to love whoever she wants, whether you think he's a 'nasty git' or not. You don't control her, and you ought to be acting like a friend, not a jealous boyfriend._

_Now, if you're over that, keep an eye on these blokes Ginny and Hermione are on about for us. And if they aren't treating our little sisters right…well, just think like us._

_The Brothers Who Will Beat You Up If You Don't Pull Your Head Out Of Your Arse (a.k.a. Fred and George)_"

As soon as he read the last line, the letter flew straight up in the air, fleeing from his grasp, and exploded.

* * *

For the rest of the day, all anyone could talk about was how Weasley had gotten 'Umbridged' by his own brothers. Weasley's face after the letter exploded in a swirl of sparks and colors had been completely priceless, and one of the funniest things Theodore had ever seen. The dolt's eyes and mouth were wide open like a dead fish, and his face and some of that flaming red hair were covered in soot from the explosion.

The entire Hall burst into laughter at the sight of him, except, of course, Weasley's loyal girlfriend and his ex-friends. Brown immediately started fawning all over her poor 'Won-won' and trying to drag him to the hospital wing, despite his protests. Everyone just laughed harder when she called him 'Wonnie.' Theodore couldn't understand how any self-respecting red-blooded wizard could allow himself to be called something that ridiculous.

Potter, Granger, and their lackeys shifted around in their seats, unsure of what to do, and Draco kept shushing all the Slytherins. Theodore also couldn't understand why Draco had suddenly taken a liking to Gryffindors, Muggle-borns, and the Golden Trio, either. And he _really_ couldn't understand why everyone still listened to Draco on all matters.

It was more understandable with the little first and second years, who looked at their Head Boy as an authority figure and someone to guide them through the squid-infested waters of Hogwarts. But Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, _and_ Millicent still listened to whatever Draco said, even if they didn't agree with it. Theodore could barely stand it.

"Did you see Weasley's face?" Crabbe asked for the fiftieth time, chuckling to himself.

Goyle laughed. "Yeah. He's so stupid," he agreed, also for the fiftieth time.

"No wonder Granger dropped him," Theodore added, smirking. "I'm just surprised Potter followed along with it. He must be more whipped than I thought."

They both guffawed.

"Yeah, he's whipped," Goyle repeated, grinning.

"Speaking of Granger…." Crabbe trailed off, pointing ahead.

And there the stuck-up tight-ass was, waltzing off down the stairs to the dungeons like she owned the place. Theodore motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to be quiet, then trailed after Granger at a casual pace, so if she turned around he could just say he was going to his dorm. Which had been true, until she showed up where she didn't belong.

Theodore pulled up sharply when Granger stopped at Snape's office door. He was almost bowled over when Crabbe and Goyle stopped belatedly, crashing into each other. He glared at them and motioned for them to be quiet again when Goyle started whimpering about how Crabbe stepped on his foot. They fell silent again and he turned back to watch Granger, who knocked twice on Snape's door and waited for a moment.

When Snape finally snapped "Enter," Granger strode in with a bounce in her step and closed the door behind her. Theodore scowled and glanced back at Crabbe and Goyle, who shrugged at him.

"Maybe that's why he likes her now," Crabbe observed, shrugging again.

Goyle chuckled, then frowned. "I don't get it."

"That actually makes sense…" Theodore realized, gaping at Crabbe in amazement. "She's been shagging him, the little harlot."

"Why?" Goyle asked, scratching his head. "She's not in his class."

He considered that. "She's probably doing it for Potter's grade," he concluded, shaking his head. "Snape's never liked him, so she's making up for it."

"Tramp," Crabbe said with a sneer.

Goyle nodded in agreement, smiling nastily.

"Hey, whatever you do, don't mention any of this to Malfoy," Theodore ordered, rolling his eyes. "He's gotten all attached to the Weasley girl and her friends."

"Right," Goyle agreed, just as Crabbe said, "Not a word."

Theodore grinned. "Good. We wouldn't want his dreams to be crushed by the revelation that his little friend is a hussy."

They snickered maliciously as they headed toward the common room.

* * *

Four hours later, Hermione huffed and shook her head in frustration. Had she been younger, she might have stomped her foot and pouted, refusing to try again. As it was, this challenge was only aggravating that determined streak of hers, to the point where she was ready to spend all night at it if need be.

When Severus said it was more challenging, he really meant it. Summoning had been easy enough, and levitating for the first hour of this session was a piece of cake, but _Alohomora_, one of the easiest charms Hermione knew, was a complete nightmare. If she'd had her wand out, she could've unlocked the door in a flash, but without it, she was completely at a loss. She'd nearly dug in her pocket and pulled out her wand several times, only barely managing to stop herself.

"This is ridiculous!" she grumbled, glowering at the door.

"Relax," Severus purred, watching her from nearby. "Concentrate."

Hermione nodded sharply, inwardly wondering how he could be so calm and not bored after three hours of this. She paced in a circle for a moment, shaking her hands a bit to try and release some tension from her shoulders, then placed herself before the door again. She focused hard on the knob and envisioned sending a magical hand to flick the lock as she thought the incantation. Again, nothing happened, and she cried out in frustration.

"This is impossible!" she groused, throwing up her hands.

Severus eyed her for a moment, then gestured for her to come with him.

"Sit," he instructed, leading her to the two chairs left in the room.

Hermione reluctantly dropped into the chair he indicated and shot the door another glare. She took a breath and rubbed her forehead, trying to relax and focus. Getting upset wasn't helping anything, she was sure. She forced herself to take a deep, cleansing breath, then abruptly stood, nearly running straight into him.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said firmly.

"No, you're not," he said simply, and arched a brow when she only stared at him.

With a huff, Hermione plopped back down into the chair and folded her arms, only to have to unfold them to take the cup he handed her. Severus eased into the chair next to her and waited patiently as she sipped the warm, soothing liquid. She sighed heavily and leaned back against the chair, letting the tea wash down her throat and calm her nerves.

"It's good," she said quietly when she noticed that he was, once again, staring at her. "You remembered how I like it."

Severus dipped his head in acknowledgement, and they fell silent once more, eyeing each other. Eventually, Hermione uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, sighing.

"I…I meant to thank you yesterday," she began sincerely. "Not just for helping me up, but for covering for me when I took points off of him. I don't know what made me do it. It just sort of slipped out." She smiled sheepishly.

"His punishment was well-deserved," he replied smoothly.

"He _was_ being awfully obvious about not liking me, for a Slytherin," she teased, shooting him a small grin.

Severus smirked. "Indeed. Perhaps the Sorting Hat is faulty after all."

"It's possible. I'd get tired of deciding what House people should be in if I'd had to do it for over a thousand years, too."

She took a long drink, watching his glittering eyes out of the corner of her eye.

"Okay…is that 'I'm amused by your stupidity'?" she inquired once she'd set the drink in her lap.

His lips twitched again. "No."

"Does it have anything to do with me being stupid?"

"Of course not."

"Just checking," she assured him, winking. "How about 'you amuse me', then?"

"Close enough," he purred, watching her closely.

She smiled shyly and smoothed her robes as she stood, setting her drink down on the chair.

"Okay, I think I'm ready now," she announced, smiling down at him.

Severus nodded and stood, walking her back to the door. Hermione took a deep breath and focused on the door knob again, visualizing it unlatching as the magical hand flipped the switch again. She thought the incantation again, flicking a hand toward it to encourage the flow, but nothing happened again. She huffed and glanced up at Severus, who gestured for her to try again.

"Don't think too much. Focus," he instructed, holding her gaze for a moment.

Hermione sighed and nodded. _Don't think about it. Just do it_, she told herself. She narrowed her eyes on the lock, repeating the incantation in her mind and imagining what it would do if she were holding her wand. There was a small click, and she could only stare for a moment before looking up at Severus.

"Did it work?" she asked quietly, afraid she'd just been hearing things.

When he dipped his head, she was so excited that she practically shrieked. Without thinking, she bounded up to him and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing tight.

"I can't believe I did it!" she exclaimed, lowering herself onto her heels and grinning up at him. "Thank you so much! I just…I can't believe it!"

She hurried over to the door and opened it up, peering out into the hallway briefly before turning back into the room, grin still plastered to her face. It only faltered when she saw that Severus was standing exactly where he had been, looking stunned at best, pained at worst. She frowned slightly.

"Are you all right?" she inquired gently, hoping she hadn't done something wrong.

His eyes snapped to hers, and he straightened, clearing his throat.

"Quite," he said stiffly.

"If you're sure…" she replied hesitantly.

He only stood there and her attention gradually wandered back to the door. She grinned again and shut the door, hurrying back over to him.

"Let's try it again," Hermione said eagerly.

Severus' lips twitched and he dipped his head.

"As you wish."


	20. Seventh Year: Part Twelve

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N:** Thanks for everyone's well-wishes and kudos to _TheLastVampirate_ for picking up on "The Princess Bride" reference! Have a cookie. :)

* * *

Theodore stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets, suppressing a chill as he headed down the street toward the Three Broomsticks. He would've spent the time with his friends, but it was sickening enough hearing Draco go on about his little bint without their friends' fake interest in the relationship. It also didn't help that Pansy was mad at him for accusing her of being afraid of Draco. He couldn't help it if it was true, but she didn't see it that way.

Usually Draco spent Hogsmeade days with Weasley and her friends, but since her second anniversary of winning a Quidditch game was coming up, he was hunting for gifts for her. Theodore thought it a slightly silly thing to celebrate, especially with a present, but then again, he thought their relationship was ridiculous anyway.

He rubbed his hands together one last time before reaching to open the door, intent on a drink and a warm seat. He had to pull up short upon entering the pub when he nearly bowled over one of the last people he wanted to see. He sneered nastily down at Granger and her redheaded companion.

"Look who it is. How you doing, Skidmark?" he taunted, watching her expression go eerily blank. She'd gotten really good at that. "Did you manage to get the holes out of the bottom of your robes?"

Granger raised her chin in that superbly annoying way she had, while Weasley glowered at him, face going red.

"Very funny," Granger retorted, folding her arms. "But may I point out that I wasn't exactly expecting an attack in the middle of a demonstration?"

"In a fair fight, Hermione would kick your smarmy arse," Weasley barked, straining to move past Granger's shoulder.

Theodore rolled his eyes as the Know-It-All held her little friend back.

"I'm surprised either of you have lasted this long after all your years of fighting You-Know-Who," he replied in a dry tone. "What with your uncontrollable temper, and you with that amazing lack of attention to what's going on around you. Tell me, how much warning would you have needed to effectively block my spell? Perhaps an hour?"

Weasley gasped indignantly and bowled forward again, but Granger held her back, just barely.

"No, he's right," she said soothingly. "I should've been expecting something so utterly immature from a five-year-old like himself. Come on, Ginny." And then she stepped around him and out the door before he could come up with a proper reply.

Weasley shot him a smirk before trotting out after her friend, and Theodore felt the incredible urge to hex the daylights out of those arrogant harlots. He just barely contained himself, settling for kicking a chair. He was distracted from his anger when he heard someone chuckling. He turned narrowed eyes onto a man at a nearby table, but his glare seemed to have no effect, for the man merely lifted his glass and grinned.

"That sounded painful, my friend," he said sympathetically.

"Yeah? Why don't you bugger off before things get painful for _you_?" Theodore snapped irritably.

The man's face went unbelievably dark so quickly that Theodore started to regret his words, but the darkness left as suddenly as it came, and he was smiling again.

"I wasn't trying to start nothing," he assured him. "I've been there, that's all. Why don't I buy you a drink?"

Theodore didn't particularly want to drink with a wizard who'd just been laughing at him, but he had come in for a drink. And a free one sounded nice. So he nodded once, pulling off his scarf and opening up his robe as he sat across from the man, who motioned for Madam Rosmerta.

"A pint for the boy!" he called, then turned back to Theodore with a smile. "So, who's the lady you were talking to? Ex-girlfriend?"

Theodore laughed. "Nah, not in this lifetime. That was Hermione Granger."

"No kidding. Harry Potter's comrade-in-arms?" he asked, eyebrows rising. "The girl who put Antonin Dolohov back into Azkaban during the Last Battle?"

"The very same. Pompous strumpet, if you ask me," he replied, nodding sharply.

"Now, why would you say that? She seemed lovely," he retorted.

It took Theodore a minute to realize the man was kidding, and they shared a laugh. Madam Rosmerta finally brought around his pint, and he watched her retreat for a moment before taking a good, long drink. He hissed a bit at the strength of it, but soon it smoothed down his throat and he was thirsting for more.

"Actually, she reminds me of this trollop I went to school with," the man said, shaking his head. "Always tossing her hair about in that same exact way. Women are always trying to hypnotize men with their hair."

Theodore chuckled. "Yeah, that's Granger. You've got to watch out for her bush, though. Might whack you full in the face. The hair's not as bad as the teeth, though."

"What's wrong with her teeth?" he asked, looking amused.

"Well, you wouldn't know it now, but they used to be _giant_," he replied, grinning to himself. "She had to fix them with some silly potion, but anyone in fourth year and up knows she's really just a beaver."

He laughed. "I'm surprised her parents let her in with that big a flaw!"

"Her parents are Muggles," Theodore explained, rolling his eyes.

"Well, isn't that typical?" he asked, shaking his head. "Just like a Muggle-born to act so high and mighty, despite being such nothings."

"I know!" He shook his head and finished off his drink. "Granger has always been that way, trying to prove Muggle-borns are better. She used to stand up if a teacher wouldn't call on her."

He scoffed. "Now that's desperation for you."

The man turned toward the bar again and called for Rosmerta to bring them another round. When he turned back, he fiddled with his mug a bit and sighed, shaking his head.

"The girl I mentioned was much the same way," he told him, smirking. "Except she was rather friendly with her teachers."

"Oh, so is Granger," Theodore assured him, rolling his eyes. "She's got them all wrapped around her little finger, to the point where she got them to give her the N.E.W.T.s early."

"I mean _friendly_," he corrected, grinning when Theodore's eyes widened. "Yep, the floozy was so desperate for a good grade she'd sleep with her professors." He shook his head again. "Always ruined the curve, too."

Rosmerta set down their drinks and Theodore took another long swig before leaning in a little closer to reply.

"You know, I never thought Granger would go that far," he murmured. "Too much of a goodie-goodie, you know?" The man nodded. "But the other night, I saw her go into a professor's office. And I'm starting to think that's how she's been passing his class for a couple years now. After all, he's always hated her up until recently."

The man huffed. "Isn't that always the way? It isn't like these tarts need the help with the easy classes or the nice professors, now is it?"

Theodore swallowed the rest of the pint and shook his head, trying to get a bit of the blur out of his eyes. This stuff was certainly strong. The man waved for another round, which Rosmerta brought around quicker than the last time.

"No, it isn't," Theodore agreed when he realized he hadn't answered the wizard's question. "Although, with this teacher, I can sort of see why Granger might think she needs to shag him to get a good grade. First of all, he hates her guts, and he isn't exactly a fair grader when it comes to people he doesn't like. And I s'pose his classes aren't easy, 'specially since he's the teacher."

He took another drink and the man leaned onto his elbows, waiting a moment before he spoke again.

"Still, if she would just work to get on his good side…and by work, I don't mean getting under him," the man said, smirking.

Theodore chuckled after swallowing another one. "Well, she'd never get him to like her by normal methods. Firstly, she's Potter's best friend—he hates every single one of 'em. And secondly, Snape's never been even the tiniest bit nice to anyone outside of Slytherin before this."

"I see." The wizard cleared his throat. "Ready for another one?"

Theodore hiccupped and showed him the half-full pint, shrugging. The man laughed, stroking his moustache idly.

"Keep up, boy!" he exclaimed, grinning. "What's the matter? Can't drink like a real man?"

"I can drink with the best of 'em!" he retorted indignantly.

"Well, get on with it! Rosmerta, 'nother round!" the man called.

Theodore dipped his head back and took another long swig, mentally preparing himself for a very bad hangover the next morning.

* * *

Hermione focused hard on the sensations the many, many books she'd read described transforming into an Animagus to be like. So far, she'd only gotten as far as a little fur appearing for a flicker of a second on her hands. This was supposedly pretty typical of first attempts, but if the fur remained for longer than a minute, the books recommended seeking a Transfiguration Master, Healer, or the nearest Potions Master.

She closed her eyes tight and focused her magical energy into transforming, clenching her fists hard as she imagined the switch from human to beast, her body switching with ease in—she huffed and whirled on her friends.

"Would you please stop tapping out the Hogwarts song with your feet?" she grumped, narrowing her eyes on Draco.

His heels smacked back to the floor. "Sorry."

"You're awfully tense," Ginny observed, eyeing Hermione as she massaged Draco's shoulders.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that…well, I've been at this for weeks now and it's getting a little frustrating. And beyond that, some certain seventh year boys are behind, according to the schedules they _promised_ to follow."

"We're studying!" Harry exclaimed, lifting his Potions book. "See?"

"Yeah, I'm even studying Defense," Neville assured her, gesturing to the book in his lap.

"Oh, really? What chapter are you on?" she inquired, folding her arms.

All three boys muttered to themselves and went back to reading; the girls exchanged smirks. Ginny continued to rub Draco's shoulders from behind him on the couch the room had provided, and Hermione went to go back to practicing.

"You know, Neville might need his schedule redone," Ginny said slyly, smiling.

"Wh-why? Why would—why?" he asked nervously, glancing at Hermione.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Not to _add_ study time, you dolt. To give you more 'Jessica time,'" she said smoothly.

Neville went pink, and the rest of them laughed.

"How are things going with Jessica?" Hermione asked as she sat in the lone armchair across from Harry.

"Is she becoming your special someone?" Draco teased.

Neville picked at his pants, shrugging shyly.

"I don't know," he muttered. "Okay, I guess."

"Okay, you guess?" Ginny retorted, frowning. "I thought you had such a great time on Saturday!"

"Well, yeah, that was fun. And don't get me wrong, Valentine's Day was a blast," he replied, going even redder. "But…I just don't feel…th-the thing."

Hermione exchanged puzzled glances with the rest of them, and Harry sighed, shaking his head and leaning forward on his elbows.

"What thing?" he asked.

"You know, the thing that you feel when you really click with somebody," Neville explained. "Like you do with Luna, and like you two do, and even you, with Snape."

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific," Ginny said, frowning.

"I know what he's talking about," Draco said, nodding. "It's like…you know when you dated Dean?"

"Yeah, what about it?" she shot back, then realized. "Oh. _Oh_. Okay, I get it. Wrong chemistry."

"Exactly," Neville said emphatically.

"Okay, still not getting it," Harry said, shooting another confused glance at Hermione, who shrugged.

"Think you and Cho," Ginny said automatically. "Or you and me."

"Ooh." He nodded. "Okay, yeah, I wouldn't date her anymore if that's how you feel."

"He doesn't want to hurt her feelings!" Hermione interjected. "Be gentle about it."

"O-of course I will be, but…I think she sort of feels the same way," Neville said reluctantly.

"Remember you and Viktor pre-trying to kiss?" Harry prompted.

Hermione shuddered. "Ugh. But…Neville, you snogged her for like two hours on Valentine's Day."

"So? I snogged Pansy every night for six months before we broke up," Draco interjected, shrugging. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal? How can you say that? You shared saliva," she retorted.

"I think you just think of everything as more of a big deal than the rest of us," Ginny cut in. "It's probably part of being a virgin—you just think everything is a huge step."

"Well, and she's been in love with the same man for like six years and the relationship has been moving as quickly as a snail crawling through cement," Draco added, nodding sagely.

Hermione glared at him. "Anyway…you can't possibly mean that I'm the _only_ virgin in this room, Ginny."

"Draco and I certainly aren't," she said blithely.

"Whoa! Way more than I needed to know!" Harry exclaimed, looking disgusted.

"Well, what about you? Haven't you and Luna—"

"No! I haven't with anyone!" he cried, then blushed.

"Good for you, Harry," Hermione said approvingly.

"I mean, we've done _stuff_, but we haven't—" he stammered.

"Don't need to know the details," Ginny cut in, but she was smirking.

"What about you, Neville?" Draco asked casually.

Neville swallowed. "Well…I-I'm technically a virgin. I think."

Ginny laughed. "So you see, Hermione? You are the only virgin to every single level."

"Hey, I've snogged!" she said defensively.

"Yeah, for like two seconds when you thought you were dreaming," Draco retorted.

"And the time when that guy stuck his tongue down your throat doesn't count," Harry added.

Hermione shifted in the armchair, but said nothing. Ginny sighed.

"But anyway, it's less of a big deal for the rest of us," she concluded. "Plus, when you don't feel 'the thing', it's better to enjoy the good parts as much as you can before the relationship is over."

"Yeah, when you don't feel it, it's harder to ignore the irritating parts," Draco agreed.

"Yeah, like how she dog-ears the pages of her books," Neville said, shaking his head. "That really bugs me for some reason."

"I do that," Ginny said, frowning.

"We know," Hermione replied, scowling.

Harry and Draco exchanged amused glances when Ginny gasped indignantly.

"Anyway, I felt the same way about how Cho would pick at her teeth after drinking tea," Harry assured Neville. "I mean, what was that about?"

"Oh, or like how Dean cracks his knuckles." Ginny huffed. "It drove me crazy!"

"Ron cracks his knuckles sometimes," Hermione commented.

"I know," she groaned.

"Do things like that still bug you when you're with someone you feel 'the thing' with?" Neville asked curiously.

Draco and Ginny exchanged a glance, while Hermione and Harry shifted in their seats.

"Well," Ginny said slowly, clearing her throat, "there are some things I could live without, I suppose. But it never bugs me enough to break up with him. And if it _really_ bothers me, I know I can just talk to him about it."

"Yeah, being bugged by a habit of your partner doesn't mean you have to break up," Draco added, shrugging. "The important thing is that you love them more than the habit bothers you."

"Talking to them about it can lead to fights, though," Harry muttered glumly.

Hermione frowned. "Did…you have a fight with Luna? Is that why she's not here right now?"

He sighed. "Sort of. It's just…well, you know Jimmy Peakes?" When they all nodded, he sighed again and scratched his neck. "Well…h-he's using Luna for her smarts."

"What do you mean?" she asked gently.

"He's always asking to borrow her old papers to 'look for inspiration,'" he growled, expression darkening. "But he's just copying off of her. And he bribes her with her own things. He's totally taking advantage of her."

"How did that lead to an argument with Luna?" Ginny asked, confused.

"She thinks he's being harmless," Harry spat, scowling. "And I've told her I don't like how people treat her, but she won't let me do anything about it!"

"So?" Draco scoffed. "She doesn't control you, does she? Do what you have to do to protect her. She'll eventually appreciate it," he said certainly.

Ginny promptly smacked his shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?!" he whined, glancing back at her.

"Are you kidding me? 'Do what you have to do'? _That's_ your answer?" she scolded, shaking her head. "Harry, you don't want to smother her, do you?"

He shook his head rapidly. "Of course not!"

"Then respect her wishes and back off!" she said adamantly. "Trust me on this one—you should just let her live her life how she wants to."

"I agree," Neville said quietly. "Besides, you're lucky enough to have something great with her. I mean, you have 'the thing.' Why would you want to wreck it over this?" He paused briefly. "Although, if there's a _real_ problem, like they're hexing her or something, then you should step in."

"Luna has been handling the way people treat her for six years," Ginny said incredulously. "And she fought at the Department of Mysteries with the rest of us. Do you really think she can't deal with a little hexing, let alone a fourth year?"

"You really don't think protecting her from the ponces who bug her every day isn't part of his job?" Draco retorted, frowning back at her. "He's her boyfriend. He's supposed to take care of her."

"'Take care of' and 'control' are two very different things," she shot back.

"He's not controlling her; he's trying to make her life easier," he countered.

"He could make it easier by leaving things be when she tells him to," she replied. "All he has to do is comfort her when she needs it. He doesn't need to 'take care of' things that aren't bothering her."

"People are taking advantage of her and he's just supposed to sit back and take it?" He scoffed. "Would you really expect me to just sit there if someone was using you for anything?"

"If I asked you to, yes!"

"So you don't think helping your significant other out is a good idea?"

"Okay, it's really sweet that he wants to help her, but when she tells him to back off, he should back off!"

"Hermione, what do you think?" Harry interjected, shooting an annoyed glance at the couple.

The other three fell silent and immediately turned their eyes to the only silent party. She cleared her throat and took a breath, taking care to formulate her response in a way that wouldn't upset any of the others. Or spark even more arguing between Ginny and Draco.

"I think…how accepting and understanding she is…it's something you really love about Luna," Hermione said slowly. "It's just the other side of it. Would you really want to change that about her because it _can_ lead to some negative results?"

Harry shook his head, and she took another deep breath before going on.

"I think it's best that you accept Luna as she is, just as she does for everyone else. It's part of the reason you fell in love with her. Trying to change her wouldn't be right, and it wouldn't be good for your relationship."

"So…what _should_ I do?" he asked, hurrying on when she opened her mouth. "I mean, I can't just do nothing, Hermione."

She smiled fondly at him. "I know you can't. I think maybe you should simply try to show her what it's like to have a mutual and respectful relationship, and maybe she'll realize on her own that it doesn't always have to be one-sided, and she doesn't have to let people walk all over her."

There was a moment of silence. Harry smiled at Hermione just as Draco took a breath.

"Well, I guess we know who the _Prophet_ will be recruiting as their next advice columnist," he said mock-saucily.

Ginny laughed and kissed his cheek, while the others giggled to themselves.

"You know, it really is true," Neville said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione asked, since he was looking at her.

"It makes more and more sense for you and Snape to be together every day," he replied, as though it were obvious.

* * *

Crookshanks loped down the corridor as quickly as possible, darting past students who were coming up the stairs, and trying to identify his mistress' scent. None of these chattering students smelled even the tiniest bit like Hermione, and he was starting to grow frantic. What if the Bad Man attacked her first?

He _had_ to find her. She had to know what happened. He'd managed to scare the Bad Man away, but the portrait man wasn't talking anymore, and everything was messed up. He couldn't even find his squeaky toy!

He slowed to a walk when he caught the scent of someone familiar. And, sure enough, the Screamer came around the corner. Crookshanks glared at him.

"Crookshanks, what are you doing out of Hermione's rooms?!" the Screamer exclaimed, looking startled. "You're not supposed to be wandering the corridors, you know."

Well, he wouldn't be out of the room if the Bad Man hadn't opened the door. And his mum needed to know what happened immediately. Crookshanks sat down and waited for him to go away, keeping tense in case he needed to leap away.

"How did you even get out?" The Screamer rolled his eyes, scratching his head. "Listen to me, talking to a stupid cat. Like you can understand me."

_You're stupid_. Crookshanks tapped his tail impatiently.

"Okay, come on, Crookshanks," the Screamer said, coming toward him. "I'll take you back to your mum."

Crookshanks bolted between the Screamer's legs and purred haughtily back at him.

"Please don't make me chase you," the Screamer groaned. "Okay, here…um…." He rifled through his pockets. "Here. You want some of this? This is all I've got on me."

He held out something that was very familiar for some reason. Crookshanks sniffed the air suspiciously. What was the Screamer giving him?

"Come on, please. Your mum and I might make up if I return you to her," he said persuasively. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The Screamer bent down and kept offering the dark brown stuff. Crookshanks suddenly recognized it. That was stuff his mistress _never_ let him have! And it smelled so good, too! She never shared it, and now the Screamer was offering it to him. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Crookshanks carefully stepped forward, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements. It could be a trap, after all.

"That's it, Crookshanks," the Screamer said softly. "Come on."

Crookshanks paused, as was in his nature when given a command. Then he went on and slowly, carefully pulled the treat out of the Screamer's hand. It was a little hard to chew, but it was very sweet and it went down easily. He meowed for more, and the Screamer pulled out one more piece, which he quickly gobbled up.

"Sorry, that's all I got," the Screamer said when Crookshanks looked up at him.

The Screamer reached around his arms very slowly and picked him up. Crookshanks licked his lips. Well, if the Screamer was really taking him back to his mum, then maybe he really wasn't so bad.

* * *

Ron flung the door to the hospital wing open in a panic, holding a limp Crookshanks to his chest. Madam Pomfrey and Neville were on the far side of the room, talking, and both looked up in alarm.

"Madam Pomfrey, I-I didn't know where else to take him!" Ron cried, rushing toward her. "I don't know what happened!"

"Is that Crookshanks?!" Neville exclaimed, staring at Ron with wide eyes.

"Yes! He was running around the halls, so I thought I'd return him to Hermione, an—"

"All right, Mr. Weasley. Calm yourself. Lay him down here," Pomfrey instructed, straightening the sheets on the bed. "Now, tell me what happened."

Ron gently set the unconscious cat down on the bed and tore at his hair, pacing.

"I-I don't know! One minute I was carrying him to the library to find Hermione, and the next he-he throws up and passes out!" he explained anxiously.

"Mr. Longbottom, I need you to go get Hagrid," Pomfrey ordered as she hovered her wand over the limp cat. "And immediately after you send him here, find Miss Granger and bring her."

"Y-yes, ma'am," Neville replied, taking off like a shot.

Ron gripped the side of the bed, watching as Madam Pomfrey felt the cat's neck and stomach.

"Is he gonna be okay?" he asked, clenching his fists around the sheet.

Pomfrey eyed his hands for a moment, then stood up straight.

"I don't know yet, Mr. Weasley," she said soothingly. "Please take a seat and try to calm down. Here, have some chocolate. It'll make you feel better."

She handed him a piece and Ron took it, though he didn't put it in his mouth until he sat down in the chair she'd indicated. His agitation got the best of him, however, and soon he was pacing again.

* * *

Hermione swallowed hard when she arrived at the hospital wing doors, but it did nothing to loosen the knot in her stomach. She wrung her hands and shook her head. It just couldn't be true. It couldn't. Neville was wrong. He had to be.

Comforting herself with this, she eased open the door and her breath hitched when she saw Hagrid standing next to Madam Pomfrey by one of the beds. And Ron was there, pacing wildly outside the screen. His hair was sticking out in all directions, she noted absently.

Hermione's legs went numb and she was barely aware that she was moving forward. Ron spied her and immediately ran over, crushing her in a hug that she hardly felt.

"Hermione, I'm so, so sorry," he cried as he released her. "I-I was just trying to return him to you, an—"

"What happened?" she asked, gut clenching when he shook his head.

Pomfrey was coming over, wiping her hands on her apron. She put a hand to Hermione's shoulder. Hermione steeled herself, swallowing hard and gritting her teeth.

"We believe your cat has been poisoned," Pomfrey said gently.

"Poisoned?" she echoed dully.

Pomfrey nodded, but Ron cut in before she could go on, "How could he be poisoned?!"

"Perhaps something in his food, or—"

"Oh, my…." Ron paled. "Uh…c-could it be…um…?"

"What?" Pomfrey prompted.

"I-is chocolate bad for—"

"You fed him chocolate?" Hermione interrupted, feeling numbness start to give way to anger. Ron didn't answer, but only paled more. "You fed my half-cat, half-Kneazle chocolate?"

"H-he wouldn't come to me! So I thought if I gave him a treat, he—" he stammered, backing up a step.

"Chocolate poisons cats and Kneazles are allergic to it!" she yelled, completely unaware of her volume. "How could you be so stupid?! Was this some kind of sick revenge for our fight? What were you thinking?!"

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean t—"

"Hermione, Neville told us what happened!" Harry called just then as Draco, Ginny, Luna, and he burst through the doors.

"We came as quick as we could!" Ginny added, squeezing her tight.

Hermione absently patted Ginny's back, staring blankly at Ron over her shoulder.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Draco asked Ron, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Poisoning my cat," Hermione bit out before she even thought about it.

Ron flinched. "I swear, I didn't mean to! I was just trying to return him to you!"

"You _poisoned_ Crookshanks?" Ginny demanded, stunned.

"I didn't know chocolate was bad for him!" he cried.

Pomfrey rested a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Weasley, it's all right. Hagrid and I are working on him. Now, if you all would wait over there, I will bring you news when we have some."

"C-can I see him?" Hermione asked desperately.

The nurse frowned, uncertain. "If you're sure you'll be all right with it—"

She nodded sharply. "I'll be fine."

She considered for a moment. "All right, then this way."

Hermione squeezed Ginny and Harry's hands, silently asking them to stick around, before heading off after Pomfrey. The nurse pulled aside the screen and Hermione stepped through, looking up at a grave Hagrid. He smiled weakly at her, opening his mouth as though to speak, but instead he just placed a monster hand on her shoulder. She nodded in appreciation, took a breath, and looked down at the white bed with the ginger cat on it.

She gritted her teeth as tight as she possibly could, feeling the tears immediately well up. She reached out a feeble hand to touch him, but only made it halfway before letting her hand drop on the hospital bed. She tried talking instead, but only got as far as, "Crook" before a sob overtook her. Her hand went over her mouth and she tried to regain control, struggling not to cry.

Pomfrey was rubbing her back, but Hermione wasn't aware of anything except the suddenly frail-looking cat lying on the hospital bed. She choked on her own sob, fighting it as hard as she could, then turned away abruptly and stepped out of the screen. Five heads turned to look at her and she nearly broke down right then and there.

Hermione couldn't believe her Crookshanks was in a hospital bed, dying because of Ron. She only knew two things: she could _not_ cry, and she deeply, desperately needed Severus.

She managed to make it the rest of the way to her friends on her very shaky legs. She wasn't sure which ones were wrapping her in their embrace, only that she was being ushered to a seating area by several hands at once. As she let them tug her along, she distinctly heard Harry say, "I think it'd be best if you left for now. Just until she calms down."

After that, she didn't see Ron. She later became aware that her head was in someone's lap and they were stroking her hair, and that other people were rubbing her legs and feet, and that tears were streaming slowly down her cheeks or hanging perilously off her nose.

"Someone took off my shoes," Hermione observed in a whisper.

The person stroking her hair chuckled a little. "We thought you'd be more comfortable," Harry said quietly, bending down to kiss her cheek.

"Oh," she said. There was a long pause. "I can't believe this is happening."

"I know," he replied gently. "I'm sorry."

Hermione patted his knee and took a breath, prepared to say more, but Pomfrey's shoes came into view. She sat up quickly, eager for news, and Harry braced her shoulders.

"We've treated him as best we can," Pomfrey began, holding up a hand to deflect any questions. "At this point, we can only wait and see how he's reacting to the potions we've given him."

"How long will that take?" Luna asked seriously.

Hermione reached across Harry and squeezed her hand lightly. Luna smiled at her.

"It could be several hours, although either way you should expect him to stay in the hospital for a few days," Pomfrey replied. She laid a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder briefly. "It's around lunchtime, and I suspect some of you have classes to go to. Why don't all of you try to go about your normal routines for today? You can check on him later."

Hermione thought to protest, but Pomfrey would probably usher her out one way or another, she realized. And she was only trying to help, she supposed. Hermione nodded slowly, and the nurse smiled and retreated.

Hermione sighed, sitting up fully. Ginny handed her the shoes, which she slipped on absently before they all stood. She glanced one last time at the screened-off bed before they all trooped down to the Great Hall for lunch.

The sounds of multiple conversations and chewing and silverware hitting plates hit Hermione hard, to the point where she found herself stopping in the doorway. Harry gently ushered her inside and down the rows. Draco and Luna patted her on the back before splitting off to go to their tables, while Ginny and Harry escorted her to their usual spot next to Neville.

Neville smiled sympathetically, but couldn't seem to think of anything to say. So he just filled his open mouth with food and began chewing, as though that's what he'd intended to do all along. Harry and Ginny ate slowly, and Hermione could feel them watching her as she stared down at her plate.

All the food on it looked so…disgusting. Just imagining putting one of the juicy morsels on her fork and placing it in her mouth was revolting. When they wouldn't stop staring, Hermione picked up her fork. She had to at least try, she supposed.

Hermione stabbed the sausage on her plate slowly, then dropped the fork and rubbed her forehead as hard as she could. She couldn't seem to get the mental image of Crookshanks lying in that bed out of her head. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't let herself.

A chill went up her spine, but she ignored it. If she looked up at Severus now, she would start bawling for sure.

After eating nothing for lunch, Hermione went to the library to try and read, since her friends all had classes. They'd told her over and over they could skip if she wanted them to, but she reminded them that Madam Pomfrey had said it was to be a 'normal' day. And it certainly wouldn't be normal if she let them skip class.

She thought about going up to her room to have a good cry several times, but always pushed the urge aside. She was supposed to go about her daily routine, which was probably best. She wouldn't be thinking about it that way.

Except that that was all she could think about, and she couldn't read because her eyes kept welling up, and even when she could read, she kept reading the same sentence over and over again, and even when she could get past one sentence, she didn't understand anything she'd just read.

All in all, the time Hermione spent alone in the library was very frustrating. It didn't get any easier when her friends came back from their classes, for they didn't seem to know what to say. So she might as well have been alone, since they weren't talking. Although Harry did give her a very nice foot-rub while they were in the Room of Requirement.

By dinner, Hermione was so wrung out from trying not to cry and thinking about Crookshanks and how she'd let him down that she couldn't have eaten if she wanted to. Harry, Ginny, and Neville urged her to, but when she gave a sullen, "I'm not hungry" to each one of them, they eventually let it drop.

There was another chill up her spine that sent her on the verge of tears again. She managed to avert the crisis by asking Harry if he had scheduled Quidditch practice that evening. He quickly assured her he could cancel it, but when she only gave him a look, he fell silent. Hermione suspected she hadn't been the only one giving him a look, since Ginny just gave her an 'I didn't do anything' look when she turned back around.

Hermione understood why when they left dinner and Ginny asked, innocently, if she had a practice session with Severus that evening.

"Every Friday," she replied flatly. "As you well know."

Ginny only smiled, although very lightly. "Good."

Harry rubbed Hermione's shoulder and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"We'll see you later," he assured her, then strode off down the corridor with Ginny.

Hermione sighed heavily and turned toward the stairs that would lead her down to Severus. She took a moment to harden her defenses and compose herself. It wouldn't do to burst into tears as soon as she entered the room, after all.

She knocked once at the door, not feeling energetic enough to add her usual second.

"Enter," he snapped irritably.

Hermione braced herself and pushed open the door, expecting to find him scowling at her and waiting impatiently in their practice room. But instead, Severus was scribbling furiously at his desk. The office was as it usually was, except on Friday nights. She frowned as she looked around, catching Severus' eye a moment later.

He stared at her for a long time before setting down his quill and standing. He cleared his throat.

"I was not expecting you," Severus said lowly, arching a brow at her.

"I…w-we were supposed to meet tonight, weren't we?" she asked, hating the slight shake in her voice.

"Mr. Weasley informed me that your familiar is seriously ill," he replied smoothly. "I assumed you would be with him."

Hermione's control broke and she promptly burst into tears, covering her face with her hands as quickly as possible. Through the blur and her fingers, she could see his outline as he stood there, as though unsure what to do. She knew he couldn't possibly be comfortable with a bawling student in the middle of his office, but she couldn't seem to stop herself now that she'd started.

Eventually, the black blur that was Severus moved closer, until he was right next to her. She heard the door shut behind her, and then a hand slowly, tentatively, clasped her shoulder. The sobs only wracked her body harder, and she wiped at her cheeks as quickly as she could, but the flow of the tears wouldn't stop.

"I'm sorry," she wept, sniffling hard. "I-I-I—"

"Hush," Severus chided, but in one of the gentlest tones she'd ever heard him use. "Let yourself cry."

Hermione stared up at him, trying to blink through the tears to see him properly. He looked completely serious. She moaned softly, and the tears broke out anew, attacking her with a vengeance. The hand on her shoulder pulled her closer until she was flat up against him, sobbing into his chest and clutching at his robes. His hands rested against her back, rubbing gently every once in a while, soothing the pain that crying so hard brought.

She burrowed her head under his chin, feeling warm and safe at last, tucked within his embrace. A part of her couldn't believe this was happening, but the rest was just glad it was. She'd needed this so badly—not just the release of her tears and grief, but Severus' comforting presence and his quiet acceptance. She sagged against him in relief, grasping the fabric of his robes loosely in her fists.

Hermione's body gradually tired to the point where she was only resting against him, tasting the salt of her own tears on her lips and sniffling. Her cheeks felt crusty and hot, and she really wanted to sit down, but she couldn't bring herself to move from that spot.

Severus backed out of the hug first, removing his person from her. Hermione hurriedly let go of him and bit her lip sheepishly. She wiped her sleeve over her mouth and nose, sniffling and taking deep breaths. Before she could say anything, he placed a hand on her shoulder again and ushered her to the chair across from his desk. She sank into it, legs thanking her for the reprieve, and glanced at him in surprise when he sat in the chair directly next to her.

"Better?" he asked, softly.

She nodded. "A little," she murmured.

"You did not eat today," Severus commented, almost sternly.

"I had some breakfast," she replied, shrugging.

He pulled out his wand and summoned a tea tray, which he set on the edge of his desk. He put his wand back in his pocket and stood to pour some of the steaming liquid into a cup, then poured in a small drip of honey, which he stirred in. Finally, he picked it up and held it out to her. Hermione hesitated, feeling revulsion rise again.

"It will soothe your stomach," he encouraged.

She sighed and reached out a reluctant hand, letting it slip around the warm cup. She rested it in her palm for a moment, staring down at the golden brown liquid. After a moment, she steeled herself and brought it to her lips, sipping the tiniest bit and letting it wash over her tongue, which suddenly felt so dry she hurried to drink more. Severus nodded his approval and sat next to her again, watching her every movement, as always.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, as though it were very important.

She glanced up at him. "A little, I guess."

"What would you like?"

"Perhaps…bangers and mash?"

Severus nodded and stood, jotting a note to send for a house-elf. When he sat again, Hermione rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on from all that crying. Yet, she still felt more tears coming on and wiped her cheeks of them as they came. Before either of them could say anything more, a house-elf came trotting in with the dinner she'd ordered, with two slices of chocolate fudge riding alongside the plate of mashed potatoes and sausages.

Hermione almost smiled. That was precisely the dessert she'd ordered at the Three Broomsticks on Valentine's Day. Right down to the cherry sitting next to the fudge.

"As the good sir ordered," the house-elf said as he set down the tray. He bowed.

"Thank you," Hermione said quickly.

The house-elf bowed to her as well, then disappeared as quickly as he came. Hermione took another long drink of tea, then set it down to the left of her plate and picked up her fork. She swallowed heavily as she looked down at the food, but he'd been right: the tea had soothed her stomach and she didn't feel so disgusted by it.

So, she hastily picked up her knife and began slicing the sausages into smaller portions. Severus kept himself busy while she ate: finishing the grading he'd been doing, refilling her tea occasionally, reorganizing his desk. Still, every once in a while, Hermione would pause and catch him watching her, as though checking to make sure she swallowed every bite.

When she finished, she sat back in her chair and heaved a sigh. Severus eased down next to her again, peering at her curiously. She smiled weakly over at him.

"That was good," she said sincerely.

He dipped his head. "Good."

She reached out for the small dessert plate and idly chewed on a bite of fudge, feeling much calmer than she had earlier. The thought of her poor Crookshanks still brought tears to her eyes, but she'd managed to keep it together while she was eating, and she was determined to do so while enjoying her dessert.

After she'd finished, she took a breath and broke his concentration on whatever thoughts he was having.

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly. "I needed this."

Severus nodded again. "You're welcome."

She smiled when he held her gaze, then sighed. She was likely on the verge of overstaying her welcome, so she went to bid him good night. Before she could, he banished her trays and moved his chair to face her more, taking a breath of his own.

"Why don't you…tell me what happened?" he suggested, his eyes giving the only sign of anxiousness.

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yeah. Okay. Well…I-I was in the library this morning, just doing a little research. Neville came running in and…he looked so red and panicked that I knew something had to be wrong. I asked him and he told me that Crookshanks was in the hospital wing. I just couldn't believe it. I mean, in all the years I've had Crookshanks, he's never been sick. He's always been really healthy and…besides, I thought he was in my quarters."

She paused for a moment, gathering herself, and Severus nodded in acknowledgement.

"But Neville said he would go with me, but he had to tell Professor Sprout that he'd delivered the ingredients just as she asked. So I went up and…when I came in, Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey had their backs to me and Ron was pacing back and forth like…a madman. And he hugged me and told me he was sorry. I-I just felt so numb. I hardly registered anything.

"Madam Pomfrey came over and told me he was poisoned, and then Ron mentioned that he'd given Crookshanks chocolate to get him to come to him. I-I think I might have yelled at him. And then Harry and Ginny and Draco and Luna came in and…I went to see Crookshanks. Everything is a little hazy after that…. I just feel so, so horrible. It's…it's all my fault." She sighed, holding back another sob.

"How is it your fault?" he asked gently, although there was a slight edge to his voice.

"Well, I mean…obviously he got out of the room when I left early this morning," she replied, feeling the tears trying to force their way out again. "There's no other explanation for it. He got out because I haven't been paying enough attention to him, even though I've stopped working so hard."

"If you weren't paying enough attention to him, I believe, from what you've told me, he would have found a way to let you know," he replied teasingly, even smirking a little, then turned serious. "It is not your fault that your friend is not knowledgeable."

"But if he hadn't gotten out, this never would've happened!" she protested, sobbing despite herself.

Severus' hands were suddenly on her elbows and he shook her just the tiniest bit to get her attention. She met his eyes tearfully and bit her lip in embarrassment. He gazed at her sternly.

"Listen to me," he said firmly. "This is not your fault. Your cat, I am sure, places no blame on you whatsoever, and when he is well, he will love you just the same."

Hermione tried to hold it back, but she only ended up sobbing harder once again. Severus sighed and pulled his chair closer to hers, tugging her against him again and rubbing her shoulder occasionally. And, eventually, she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Hermione woke to the sound of fluttering wings and the screech of an owl. She nearly jumped right off the couch at the sight of two big yellow eyes peering down at her, but instead settled for sitting up too quickly and getting a head rush. She pressed her hand to her forehead and groaned, shaking her head.

_Wait. Why am I on a couch?_ She glanced around and found that she was on a brown couch and her legs were covered in a grey blanket, and she was right next to Severus' desk. Further examination found that Severus was on the other side of the desk, holding a quill and looking slightly irritated. With the owl, though, if the direction his scowl was pointed in was any indication.

She turned to the late-night delivery owl and quickly untied the envelope from around its leg, stroking its head as a thank you. The owl leaned into her touch, then turned and took off out the tiny window it likely came through. Hermione glanced down at the address on the envelope and let out a breath. Her book had finally come in.

She returned her attention to Severus, who had gone back to writing something. She slowly placed her feet on the ground, swinging the blanket off, then wrung her hands in her lap.

"H-how long was I asleep?" she asked hesitantly.

Severus spared her a glance. "An hour or two."

"Oh." She paused and swallowed. "Well, thank you for…everything. I-I can see that you're busy, so I'll just…go."

Hermione stood abruptly and headed for the door, but his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Miss Granger," he purred.

She turned. "Yes?"

"Good night," Severus said simply, as though he'd changed his mind or something.

Hermione offered a brief, weak smile. "Good night, sir."

When he only stared at her, she turned again and left him to his own devices. On the trek up to her room, she thought about stopping to check on Crookshanks, but chances were he was still asleep. Madam Pomfrey seemed to like to keep her patients asleep as much as possible during the healing process. Besides, visiting hours were over by now, and she could see him tomorrow, although she missed him terribly.

Still, she felt much better than she had earlier. Her muscles weren't so tight, and she didn't feel like she was going to cry any minute. Time with Severus had been exactly what she needed. She only wished she hadn't had to leave.

Hermione tapped the envelope idly against her finger pads as she mounted the stairs and passed the Fat Lady. Her stomach did a flip when she saw that her portrait was wide open. She ran the rest of the way and flung Loki's portrait back. It hit the wall hard and Hermione gasped.

"Loki?" she whispered, running her fingers over the single rip that went straight through his canvas.

* * *

**A/N:** Don't panic! Next update is on Wednesday. :)


	21. Seventh Year: Part Thirteen

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

* * *

The god looked almost as though he'd been Petrified, like a Muggle portrait. He wasn't moving, although he looked fast asleep. Hermione tapped him, running her hands over his face.

"Loki!" she called urgently.

When there was no response, she did the only thing she could think of to do. She started yelling as loud as she could, waking up the other portraits. They all shouted at her to quiet down, but she didn't stop until she had their attention.

"I need you to send a message to Dumbledore, immediately. However you do it," she demanded. "Loki needs help." When they all started groaning and complaining, she gathered all the breath she could in her lungs and shouted, "_Now_. I don't care if you don't like him, or if he makes too many jokes. Just do it!"

A portrait of an older man grumbled as he got out of his rocking chair and exited his portrait, and Hermione sighed in relief. She ran a hand over the rip one more time, then gently pushed aside the portrait and peered into her quarters apprehensively.

In short, the place was a mess. Her books were strewn around the room haphazardly, her couch was upended, the coffee table was broken in half, and it looked like the legs of her armchair were put into the fire, if the shapes in the blackened fireplace were any indication. Her Floo powder pot had been smashed, and the powder itself was strewn everywhere. It also looked like whoever did this went into her bedroom and dumped her box of parchment over the side of the stairs. The draperies had been pulled down and soaked with ink. She hated to see what her bedroom looked like.

It occurred to her then that this was how Crookshanks had probably gotten out. Not because she wasn't paying enough attention to him, not because she was distracted—someone had raided her room early that morning and Crookshanks escaped. Knowing Kneazles, he was probably coming to find her, too.

It was hard to imagine someone breaking into Hogwarts undetected and destroying her room like this. But it was down the hall from the Fat Lady, and the portraits at this end tended to sleep a lot unless Loki woke them up since they were all older. Besides, Sirius managed to sneak into Hogwarts and break into the Gryffindor common room, so it wasn't that much of a stretch to guess that someone else could do it, too.

"Miss Granger?" someone called from outside.

"Here! I'm here!" she shouted as she emerged from her quarters.

Dumbledore and the four Heads of House awaited her, wearing grim expressions and, in the cases of Professor Sprout and Dumbledore, pajamas and nightcaps. Professor Flitwick was examining Loki, shaking his head seriously. She pulled up short at the sight of Severus standing next to McGonagall.

For a moment, she didn't know what to do—they hadn't interacted in 'public' together since the year before. She quickly shoved aside her worries for later discussion. Right now she had to deal with the mess the intruder left behind. Hermione turned her attention to Dumbledore, ignoring the tingle that went up her spine whenever Severus watched her.

"My rooms…they've been totally destroyed," she said breathlessly. "And Loki…."

Dumbledore lifted a quieting hand. "I know, Miss Granger, I see. We will take care of it," he said firmly.

He stared her down with those twinkling eyes until she nodded, dropping her gaze. He turned abruptly to his Heads of House, gathering their attention immediately.

"Filius, take Loki to Madam Hooch and start repairs immediately," Dumbledore instructed. "Minerva, fetch Hagrid and see to it that there is a temporary door put up until Loki can be reinstated. Severus, Pomona, search Miss Granger's rooms and see if you can find any evidence the perpetrator may have left behind."

Every single one of them nodded and hurried off to do their duty, but Hermione lunged to catch McGonagall before she left, since Dumbledore was helping Flitwick with detaching Loki from the wall.

"I-is he going to be okay?" Hermione asked urgently. "Can they fix him?"

McGonagall immediately laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It may take a few days, but he'll be all right," she assured her. "Don't worry. Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick are experts in this area."

Hermione nodded quickly, offering a weak smile, and McGonagall returned it briefly before bustling off down the corridor. Hermione thought to join Severus and Sprout in the search of her room, but Flitwick was levitating Loki down the hallway, which meant that Dumbledore was free for questions. He looked about ready to go through her portrait hole, so she hurried forward.

"Sir?"

He stared at her, a bit startled it seemed. "Yes? Are you all right, dear?"

She bobbed her head. "Yes, fine. But…why didn't Loki leave his portrait when he was attacked? An-and why is he frozen like that? You _can_ reanimate him, right? And why would someone rip him that way? How did they get into my rooms aft—"

Dumbledore was chuckling. "Miss Granger, I will answer all of your questions, but do try to be patient."

She felt a blush coming on. "Sorry, sir. I guess I'm just a little overeager for answers."

He nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the portrait hole as he talked.

"I understand. Now, Loki was unable to leave his portrait. I suppose you might have noticed that he was never away from his duties?" When she nodded, he went on. "The other portraits found him too troublesome, and so he had to be bound to his portrait."

"That doesn't seem very safe," she replied sharply.

Dumbledore seemed unfazed. "It was the first time in many years that anyone broke into Hogwarts in your third year. We assumed Loki would be safe, as no one occupied his rooms. Now that his portrait has been ripped, it has broken up some of the magic which binds him together and allows him life. We will be able to reinstate his magic, with some time.

"When a portrait is damaged in this way, it also breaks their hold on your rooms, so that they can be opened and shut like a regular door."

"Well…why don't you have protective charms on the portraits, if that's the case?" Hermione blurted, anxiousness replaced by irritation. "Wouldn't that—"

"I apologize for the interruption," Severus purred from behind them. "I thought you may wish to see this."

Hermione whipped around, eager to see him and feel her anxieties wash away. Severus eyed her briefly and promptly turned his attention to Dumbledore, offering him the scrap of parchment he'd been holding. Dumbledore scanned it briefly, frown deepening. Hermione glanced at Severus, who betrayed nothing in his expression besides the clenching of his jaw.

She frowned, puzzled, and turned back to Dumbledore, who took a breath and, reluctantly, held it out for her to take. She pulled it from his hand and turned it, gut clenching when she read the sloppy, sharp writing, which said simply: "_Die, Mudblood slut_."

"Perhaps, Miss Granger, it would be best to move you to a more secure living area," Dumbledore said slowly, although he was looking at Severus when he spoke.

"I agree," Severus replied automatically, dipping his head. "Until we can be sure this…psychopathic intruder is no longer a threat to you."

"The Gryffindor dormitories will be comfortable for her," he suggested.

"And just down the hall from her own quarters," he retorted. "She would be fairly easy to track, and the move is quite possibly expected."

"Then where do you suggest we place her? Hufflepuff?" Dumbledore asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"She would be far too easy to reach in the Hufflepuff dormitories," Severus said dismissively. "Ravenclaw would be more acceptable. I very highly doubt Slytherin would be so accommodating. Still, a dormitory may not be suitable at all. It puts more students at risk, and we may be less aware of a problem, should one arise. Beyond that, one of the students could be the intruder."

"What is your suggestion then?" he repeated curiously. "We can't possibly put her in a new room alone. She—"

"Okay, sirs," Hermione broke in, waving the parchment at them. "Hello? Hi there. Remember me?"

She could've sworn Severus' lips twitched.

"Oh, yes. What is it, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"I'm not moving," she said firmly.

Severus' eyes snapped. "What?"

"I'm not leaving my quarters," she repeated. "I'm not letting this psychotic creep scare me out of my own home. If I leave, they win, and I'm not letting that happen."

"But if you stay, you'll have no protection," Dumbledore protested. "Not even a portrait."

"That didn't work out so well, anyway, did it?" Hermione retorted.

"You cannot possibly stay," Severus snapped, drawing both pairs of eyes to him immediately. "It's unsafe."

"I'm perfectly capable of handling myself," she replied calmly.

"A fact of which I am well-aware," he hissed, narrowing his eyes at her. "But this is not about your abilities, this is about your—"

"Safety. Yes, I know," she shot back, feeling a bit of his irritation start to rub off on her. "Are your duties to the school all you _ever_ think about?"

Severus visibly bristled. "This has nothing to do with duty."

"Then what _does_ it have to do with?" Hermione snapped back, folding her arms tight.

She arched a brow quizzically in an unconscious imitation of him, but he only stared back at her, scowling. He apparently had no intention of answering her, but she also had no intention of backing down. She was going to stay in her quarters, and that was that. Their silent battle of wills was interrupted by the hesitant clearing of a throat.

"I-I don't mean to interrupt," Sprout said uncertainly, "but I've found something."

Hermione broke eye contact first, glancing at Sprout, who was holding a white pillowcase. Dumbledore, who had been grinning from ear to ear a moment ago, frowned and nodded at Sprout.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked seriously.

Sprout took a breath and slowly overturned the pillowcase, revealing several dirty brown-red spots marring the pretty white. Hermione frowned at the three adults.

"Bleeding on your property doesn't seem like a very wise choice," Dumbledore observed, taking the pillowcase from Sprout to examine it more closely.

"Crookshanks probably attacked them," Hermione supplied proudly. "He knows when people are supposed to be there and when they aren't."

"Who would just stand there while being attacked, and long enough to bleed?" Sprout asked curiously.

None of them had an answer to that one. Dumbledore broke the silence first, taking the note from Hermione and handing both the pillowcase and note to Severus.

"Do as thorough an examination as you can, and see if you can find out anything," he ordered. He smiled at Hermione. "We may yet figure this out."

Hermione smiled back. "Thank you, sir."

"Now, it's late. Why don't we all try to get some rest?" Dumbledore suggested, motioning for Sprout to come with him as he started down the hallway.

Severus eyed Hermione for a long moment before following after them, still looking quite irritated about something. Hermione heaved a sigh, the tension draining out of her frame in a wave that left her feeling exhausted and aching. She would still have to wait for McGonagall and Hagrid to arrive with the temporary door, of course, but, for the moment, she could relax.

* * *

_You are an idiot. Could you make it more obvious? Why don't you just write it on your forehead?_ Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as he strode up the stairs in the quiet of the night. No one else was up, except perhaps a patrolling teacher or two. And, of course, if he ran into one of them, he could simply say he was patrolling as well. Which, he technically was. In a way.

_And what are you going to do if you get caught? 'Patrolling' won't work if you're just standing there, you know._ He grumbled irritably at the voice, but he couldn't quite make himself turn back around. He'd tried to go to sleep, but nothing he did encouraged his eyes to close and his mind and body to relax. He could not stop thinking about her, all alone, unprotected.

_You do realize she will probably kill you if she catches you, right?_ True, she was capable of handling herself. She was talented and resourceful and intelligent, but he couldn't let it go. Doing nothing to protect her at all was not an option. Still, what he was doing was like suicide.

Of all the stupid, insane things he'd done in his life, this had to rank at least in the top ten. If she caught him, all of his hard work at waiting to tell her what he felt would go straight down the drain. And it wasn't like she'd appreciate it, either. In fact, she might be downright angry with him, judging from her reaction to his earlier protests.

On top of that, Minerva was bound to notice at some point that he seemed crankier and more tired than usual, and promptly start poking her nose where it didn't belong. And then Dumbledore would notice she was doing so and stick his head where it didn't belong.

Of course, hopefully this wouldn't have to go on that long. Hopefully they would catch the psychopathic bastard who had done this and have done with it.

He'd seriously considered the possibility that he was going soft, but the images of what he could—and would—do to the degenerate, bigoted, unoriginal, inarticulate criminal convinced him otherwise. It was just annoying when he'd gotten the first note during his discussion with Hermione weeks ago. "_You'll pay_" was hardly something he paid much attention to. After all, he'd heard that so many times during his years as a spy and Death Eater that it became dead noise to him.

Now the anonymous, cowardly, nosy Neanderthal had really pissed him off. And, apparently, pushed him over the edge to insanity, since he'd even considered doing what he was about to do.

Severus finally arrived at the top of the stairs of Gryffindor Tower and strode down the hallway to the dark wooden door covering the portrait hole. Heaving an irritated sigh, he halted outside and stood at his post for the night.

* * *

After breakfast and a long discussion with her friends about what happened, the troop travelled back up to Hermione's room to clean it up. She visited a still-sleeping Crookshanks before breakfast and Madam Pomfrey informed her there was no change, so she decided to visit later on. It would be easier if he was awake and she could thank him for protecting her rooms.

When her friends saw the mess the invader made, it took several minutes for Luna and Hermione to calm Harry down. She decided not to tell them about the note. Harry might've exploded.

She set Harry and Luna to cleaning up the Floo powder, paper, and ink stains in her draperies, while Draco and Ginny were to try to repair furniture if possible, and put it back. It was ultimately decided that there was no way on earth to fix her armchair, and she'd simply have to get a new one. Hermione and Neville took care of the books.

The use of wands made it go much quicker than it would've had they been Muggles, but it still seemed to take forever. The bathroom and bedroom weren't quite as bad, most likely because Crookshanks was attacking the person by then, so they all took care of those rooms together. They were almost finished when Hermione realized they hadn't found her music box.

She attempted to stay calm, asking them all to fan out and try to find it after summoning produced no results. They dug through her closet, beneath the couch, even through her books. Finally, Ginny popped out from deep underneath Hermione's bed with a triumphant cry.

"Here you are, ma'am!" she said proudly, handing it over. "It was stuck."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and took it from her, stroking it affectionately before popping it open. Her smile turned quickly to a gasp when she saw that the ballerina figurine had been completely ripped out.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, peering over her shoulder. There was a moment of silence. "If I ever find that son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill him."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded.

"What? He _destroyed_ your room and one of your most valuable keepsakes," he replied vehemently. "And, if you think about it, he's the reason Crookshanks is sick."

"Harry's right," Draco said suddenly, shaking his head. "The bastard has it coming."

"We might still be able to find the figurine, right?" Ginny cut in hopefully.

"How could we? We've looked everywhere," Hermione replied, drooping.

"Why would someone steal something like that?" Neville asked, shaking his head.

"I don't know. Why would they slash a hole in a portrait and trash someone's quarters?" Harry retorted stiffly.

Luna began stroking his shoulders and he let out a breath, muscles relaxing a bit. Hermione sighed and slowly closed the music box, setting it forlornly on her nightstand. Ginny swung her arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, how do you feel about a little lunch?" she asked, smiling. "Maybe Seamus will try to ask Parvati out again."

Hermione smiled a little. "That _is_ always fun to watch."

Ginny grinned. "There ya go."

* * *

After lunch, Harry and Hermione were off to visit Crookshanks, since Luna had a Charm Club meeting to attend, Ginny and Draco were going to spend some time together, and Neville was off with Jessica. Likely to end things as gently as possible. Just before the two groups split off, Draco stopped them.

"I forgot to mention, what with all the excitement, that if you see Uncle Larry in Hogsmeade again do _not_ talk to him," Draco said emphatically.

Ginny glanced at him, puzzled. "Um…why not?"

"Well…he's a _little_ crazier than I thought," he replied, clearing his throat.

"What do you mean, a little?" Harry echoed, frowning.

"Well, according to my mother, if I see him I should, quote, 'hide, and if he sees you, make a run for it,' unquote." Draco paused while they all stared at him. "Apparently he's a bit of a nutter."

Hermione exchanged a long glance with Harry, who rolled his eyes. She sighed and nodded in Draco's direction.

"Good to know," she told him.

Draco smiled sheepishly, and Ginny finally broke the silence, calling, "See you later!"

Hermione and Harry waved as Ginny dragged Draco down the hallway, then turned toward the hospital wing. Harry sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets, shaking his head.

"Kind of makes you wish you hadn't bought a rose from him, eh?" he teased, smiling.

"A little bit, yeah," she replied, smiling right back.

They walked in silence for a moment, then Harry took a breath.

"You seem better today," he commented casually. "Despite what happened to your room."

She nodded pleasantly. "I am better today. I mean, things like that happen to us all the time. But Crookshanks getting sick? Let's just say it freaked me out a little bit."

"What changed?" he prompted, peering at her curiously.

"Severus," she said quietly. When he raised his eyebrows at her, she sighed and went on. "He…helped me. He let me cry it out and…he got me eating and he let me talk about it. It was exactly what I needed. And I know…I know you all would've done that for me in a heartbeat, but—"

"But you needed him," Harry finished, smiling knowingly. "I understand."

Hermione smiled up at him and he opened the hospital wing door for her. She thanked him and went on through, calling for Madam Pomfrey. The nurse immediately came out of her office, smiling brightly when she saw them.

"Oh, Miss Granger! I'm happy to tell you that your cat is a getting better," she announced immediately.

Hermione glanced at Harry, grinning elatedly. He smiled brightly and she turned back to Pomfrey.

"Well, c-can I see him?" she asked excitedly.

She smiled. "Of course. He's awake, but he's a bit groggy, so don't get him too excited."

Hermione nodded quickly and bounded after Pomfrey, stepping through the screen she opened up. Crookshanks looked up and blinked blearily, then yowled. She nearly squealed with joy, plopping right in the seat next to his bed.

"Oh, Crooks, my baby! How are you?" she asked happily, stroking his head.

He leaned into her hand as she scratched behind his ear, purring almost immediately. Harry patted Hermione on the back and stroked Crookshanks once.

"You are such a brave boy," Hermione cooed, kissing the half-asleep cat on the head. "My good little Crookshanks."

She sighed, petting him happily. He settled his head down on his paws, purring and wearing a cat smile. Harry chuckled, leaning on the edge of the bed.

"Well, looks like someone's happy to see his mama," he commented, grinning down at her.

She smiled. "So does this mean he's going to be all right?" she asked Pomfrey, who was standing just inside the screen.

"It's definitely promising. Hagrid and I will have to keep an eye on his progress for a few days," the nurse replied, nodding, "but if he's even better tomorrow, you can bet that he's going to keep getting better."

"Thank you so much," Hermione said happily.

Pomfrey smiled. "You're welcome, dear."

After a moment, she pulled back the screen and went to attending to her other duties and Hermione focused her attention on petting her now-sleeping cat. Harry examined his nails, looking like he wanted to say something. She glanced up at him.

"What's up?" she prompted, loosening a knot in Crookshanks' fur.

Harry shifted. "Well, uh…not to ruin the moment, or anything, but…I just wondered if you found anything more on that shopkeeper."

Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "Nothing. I read a little into his background, and there wasn't really anything interesting there. Except that he collected rare wizard artifacts. They found the first model broom in his loft above his store."

"Maybe somebody wanted something he had, then," he suggested thoughtfully.

"That was my first thought, but nothing was stolen that they've found so far," she countered. "He kept records of all the artifacts he had, and the _Prophet_ said the Ministry has been through most of the list. Everything is accounted for."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to keep an eye on the articles for a while, see if anything else turns up," he said. "In the meantime, we also have to figure out who raided your room."

"Dumbledore has Severus on it," she told him. "Professor Sprout found a little blood on my pillowcase, so he's examining it to see if he can find a match, I guess."

Harry smiled. "Go Crookshanks."

She smiled back up at him, but the moment was interrupted when they heard shoes squeak on the floor as someone turned around. Flaming red hair that could only be Ron's started to retreat, so Hermione stood up immediately and called after him.

"Ron! Wait a second!"

The red hair stopped moving and slowly came back. He peered around the corner of the screen, looking sheepish.

"Yeah?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "You don't have to go."

Ron blinked. "I don't?"

She shook her head and Harry nodded, smiling at his best friend along with Hermione. Ron cleared his throat.

"Well, look, I wanted to say yesterday that I'm really, really sorry about all this, and about calling Snape what I did," he said as he came in, scratching his head. "I was being an idiot, and I didn't realize that chocolate was bad for Crookshanks, and I just thought that if I brought him back to you then maybe we could—"

He stopped abruptly when Hermione hugged him. She smiled into his shoulder and gave him a squeeze, then backed off slowly. Ron stared at her, wide-eyed, and fiddled with the small packet she just noticed was in his hands.

"Thank you for telling Severus what happened," she said deliberately. "I appreciate it more than you know. It really showed me how much you care, and…I forgive you. I've missed you, and I know Harry has, too." Harry nodded rapidly. "So can we please be friends again?"

Ron broke out into a grin. "Oh, please, Merlin, yes."

Harry pounded him on the shoulder and Ron pulled Hermione into a one-armed hug. He squeezed her tight and playfully punched Harry's arm, looking so relieved Hermione couldn't help but laugh. When he finally released her, she gestured to the packet.

"So what's that?" she inquired playfully. "Pixie dust?"

Ron smiled, blushing. "No, actually…I felt really bad about poisoning Crookshanks, and that time I poisoned you, and borrowing your Felix Felicis without asking, and then losing it, and, um, calling Snape a…well, you know. Oh, and also—"

"We got it," Harry said, grinning.

"Right, well, I went to Hogsmeade this morning and got one hundred percent chocolate-free, natural, customized cat-Kneazle cross treats that are 'sure to make your crossbreed purr,'" Ron read, then smiled. "I thought I'd drop it off while you weren't here as sort of an apo—"

He was cut off when Hermione hugged him again. Harry patted him on the back again, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm sure Crookshanks will love them," Hermione assured him, nodding happily. "You know, when he wakes up."

They all looked down at the sleeping ginger cat and Ron swallowed.

"Is he gonna be—"

"Madam Pomfrey says they're going to keep an eye on him, but she's hopeful," she replied quickly.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I swear, I was going to hex off my privates _for_ you if I killed your cat."

She laughed, and Harry shook his head.

"I can't believe you actually went to Snape after what you said about him," he said, stunned. "After he heard you, that is."

"Well, the man didn't make it easy for me," Ron replied, shaking his head in remembrance. "I swear to Merlin, I came in, he saw me, and I almost died."

"It was not that bad!" Hermione protested, laughing.

"I'm not joking," he said, very seriously. "I literally died a little inside. The man doesn't need a wand to cast the Killing Curse."

"So what happened then?" Harry asked interestedly.

"He said to me—" he lowered his voice several octaves, "'Oh, you. What could I have possibly done to merit _your_ presence?'"

Harry guffawed and even Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous deepness of Ron's voice.

"And I said, 'Uh, sir…I, uh, just came to, uh, tell you that, uh,'" he continued, using a squeaky voice similar to Lavender's to mock his own. "And he said, 'Well? I don't have all day, Weasley. Get on with it.' So I said, 'Well…Hermione's cat is sick and I had nothing to do with it and I just thought I'd let you know! Bye!' And then I was _out_ of there, but then…."

Harry and Hermione wiped their eyes, panting to regain their voices.

"But then what?" Harry asked, chuckling even as he asked.

"But then he said, '_Weasley_!' And man, when Snape uses that voice, you cannot move one muscle in your body," Ron said, shaking his head. "It's like when Hermione casts a Body Bind."

Hermione giggled. "So what'd he say?"

"He gave me a very long, serious look, just like this," Ron said, trying to arch a brow but failing miserably, and eyeing Hermione darkly. "And said, 'Mr. Weasley…your shoelace is untied.'"

Harry and Hermione shrieked with laughter, and Crookshanks yowled irritably as he woke up. Hermione panted hard, stroking his head and apologizing breathlessly. He purred quietly and settled to go back to sleep, although Hermione and Harry didn't make it easy for him.

Ron grinned at them while they recovered, setting Crookshanks' new treats on the tray at the end of his bed. He smacked his hands together and rubbed them eagerly.

"So, fill me in!" he exclaimed eagerly. "What's the scoop on the new mystery?"

Hermione giggled, but managed to affect a naive look. Harry was too busy clutching his stomach and panting to do much of anything.

"What makes you think there's a new mystery?" she asked innocently.

Ron mock-glowered at her. "Don't toy with me, woman. You've got the look."

She laughed. "What look?"

"That 'I've been researching and solving problems and it makes me giddy' look," he replied. "It's sort of like Lavender's 'I've been snogging' face." He turned on Harry. "And you! You look happy and sick, which means you have a chance to play hero, but you're worried about it, too."

Harry grinned. "I missed you, mate."

Ron grinned back. "Me, too. All right, so stop stalling. Tell me everything!"

He plopped down into one of the chairs and they all settled in for a long discussion, just like old times.

* * *

"So I'm thinking we have a slumber party in Hermione's private quarters," Ron said later, after dinner. "What do you say?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Draco broke the silence first.

"So…Weasley's back, eh?" he asked.

"Hey, I've been around for six years longer than you, mate," Ron barked defensively. "You don't get to say I'm 'back.' You're brand new."

It was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes. She swung Draco's arm around her shoulders and sighed.

"They always do this," she informed him sagely. "They fight and break up, and then one day, Ron's hanging out with them again and it's all, 'Oh, you didn't know we made up? Haha, we're sorry.'"

"That is not how it goes," Harry retorted, shaking his head.

"Actually, it kind of is," Neville replied. "It happened fourth year."

"And sort of third year, when you two were mad at Hermione about the Firebolt thing," Ginny added.

"We don't do that, do we, Luna?" Harry asked hopefully.

Luna smiled. "It's all right. You become too distracted by the joy of your reunion."

He sighed and kissed her forehead. "Well, I guess that's better than us being ignorant jerks."

"I didn't say you were ignorant or jerks," Ginny shot back. "I just said that's what you do."

Draco grinned at her and they snogged for as long as they could while walking.

"Okay, so, slumber party? Who's in?" Ron asked eagerly.

"No one," Hermione interrupted. "You are not staying in my quarters."

He pouted. "Why not? We won't break anything! Promise!"

"That's not the reason. I know exactly what you're trying to do," she said firmly, eyeing both Harry and Ron. "I'm not having anyone being overprotective for no reason. This could've been a one-time thing for all we know."

"Oh, yeah, someone inflicts that much damage on your room and it's a one-time thing," Draco said sardonically. "Just a fluke, right?"

"You never know. Vandalism happens all the time in the Muggle world," Hermione replied, shrugging.

"Oh? Well, riddle-me-this then, Granger," he taunted teasingly. "Why was _your_ room the only one they touched?"

"Maybe I made someone angry," she said uncertainly. "I do that sometimes, you know. I'm bossy, and that makes some people very mad."

"Hermione, you have the longest list of friends in the _universe_," Harry reminded her, shaking his head.

"Yeah. Almost no one doesn't like you," Ron agreed, nodding.

"Hm. Well, let me remind you of my long list of enemies," she began, clearing her throat. She lifted her hand to count off, "There's everyone in Slytherin, not including Draco, who used to hate my guts. There are all the Death Eaters that ever heard of me, which would probably be all of them, since our names pretty much go together. There are probably a few people in the Ministry who don't like me, a couple Ravenclaws—you know, just a lot of people."

"Okay, most of the Slytherins are indifferent to you, and I've heard a couple of the first years say you're really nice," Draco said defensively. "The only ones who still don't like you are the sixth and seventh years, and they pretend they like you anyway because I now have my dad's money and that scares some people."

He nodded sagely and Ginny chuckled, patting his chest affectionately.

"Most of the Death Eaters are in Azkaban," Neville piped up. "So there's no way they could reach you, and besides, they'd probably attack Harry and Ron, too, if they were going to attack you."

"Good point," Ron said eagerly. "And the Ministry people? Come on, do you really think any of them would raid your room?"

"And the Ravenclaws only don't like you because you're smarter than them," Harry added. "They don't hate you. At least, not enough to do something like that."

"And anyone you made angry enough to do that to your room has some severe mental issues that they should likely seek therapy for," Ginny concluded.

Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm still going to be fine. I was fine last night, wasn't I?"

"It's not likely that the criminal would have returned at any point yesterday," Luna pointed out.

"Right. But this is the day after. If they come back, it'll be when they think I'm not ready for it," she reasoned. "So you all have nothing to worry about. Besides, you know I can handle myself."

They all exchanged glances, and then Harry huffed.

"All right, that's true," he admitted.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you. Then it's settled? You won't sneak into my room in the middle of the night, scare the daylights out of me, and then get hexed because it's so dark I don't realize it's you?"

"Wouldn't it be nightlights?" Ron asked cheekily.

She swatted his arm while the rest of them chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, quite obviously not sorry.

"There were so many jokes for that," Draco agreed. "It was too tempting."

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. Boys.

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. No matter how hard she tried, all she could do was toss and turn. If Crookshanks had been there, he would've been yowling at her and leaping off the bed. She hadn't confided it to her friends, but she was starting to feel awfully guilty about her argument with Severus the night before. Of course, she hadn't told them they'd argued at all, mostly because that news paled in light of the fact that someone had ripped her portrait, destroyed her quarters, and her cat was sick.

Besides, it wasn't like they hadn't argued before. But this was different. It wasn't about anything academic, nor was it in the midst of a crisis during which he was yelling at everyone, so it didn't really count. And it wasn't during class, and it also wasn't him sort of apologizing for something he did while she yelled at him. It was an actual argument, in which she'd even taken a shot at him.

That was part of what was bothering her so badly. She couldn't believe she'd thrown his dedication to his duties back in his face. She also couldn't stop thinking about what he could've meant when he said that wasn't what it was about, but the guilt overwhelmed the curiosity. After he'd been so comforting and wonderful earlier on, she'd been irritable and rude with him. In hindsight, she realized she hadn't even thanked him properly for taking care of her.

Granted, some of Hermione's reactions could be put to how Severus was acting. In the case of her inadequate thanks, he had seemed rather busy, so she didn't want to disturb him. And she hadn't been expecting him to be so formal with her just because they were in the presence of other professors later on that night. She'd been so exhausted and wrung out that she'd lashed out at him.

None of these excuses made her feel any better. She wanted desperately to run down to his office and beg for his forgiveness, but it was the middle of the night. Besides, he might not even want to see her, after what she'd said to him. She couldn't quite remember if she'd felt him watching her during meals, since now it was such a natural sensation that she hardly registered it. And she hadn't seen him the rest of the day.

Hermione huffed and resettled into the pillow after rolling over. Well, whether she went to him or not, she certainly wasn't going to get any sleep—that much was clear. After a sigh, she decided to consider her options. She could continue to lie there and torture herself with guilt, which wasn't very appealing any way you looked at it. She could read, which was always a viable option. Or, she could sneak out and go see Crookshanks.

It was the middle of the night and past her curfew. It was a ridiculous notion. She didn't have an Invisibility Cloak, and even if she did manage to slip past any patrolling teachers unseen, she could wake up Madam Pomfrey. Or Crookshanks could get too excited and wake up Madam Pomfrey. Or get sicker.

Still, she missed him horribly, and he would be a great comfort to her. Besides, most of the teachers were probably in bed by now, including Madam Pomfrey. And Filch even had to sleep sometime. She could simply slip out, visit Crookshanks for a bit, and then sneak back up to her room before any of the professors woke up for the morning.

It was still crazy, but now she was set on it. Hermione rolled out of bed, pulling her favorite blanket with her and tugging it around her shoulders. She grabbed her wand and slipped on her shoes, nearly squeaking when she felt how cold the insides were. She wiggled her toes until she was comfortable and padded down the stairs as quietly as possible, as though someone could hear her in there.

Upon reaching the door, Hermione carefully pushed it open a crack, peering down the hallway. She didn't hear anything or see any moving shadows, so she pushed the door open the rest of the way and strode on out. When she saw a tall figure moving in the dark, she jumped, feeling the shock down to her bones.

She squinted at the person, barely making out their silhouette, and then he stepped into the moonlight.

"Oh, i-it's you!" she exclaimed, stunned.

"Indeed," Severus replied, scowling. "You could perhaps lower your wand now."

Hermione stared down her arm and gave herself a mental shake, quickly lowering the wand to her side. She smiled sheepishly at him.

"Sorry." She cleared her throat. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Patrolling," he said irritably. "And you?"

"Well, I-I was just…nothing," she finished lamely, readjusting her blanket around her shoulders.

Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "You once said you would tell me anything. Has this changed?"

"No! I mean, of course not," she replied immediately. "I just…I was just sneaking out to see my cat." She sighed.

"I see," he said simply.

There was a long silence that stretched out between them, making the guilt weigh even heavier on her. Hermione swallowed and licked her lips, trying to think of something to say. It was a bit odd that he wasn't inflicting any sort of punishment on her. And…it was also a bit odd that he wasn't going back to patrolling, too. Except….

Her mind ran back over the details of what just happened and she started. He'd been turning around, going _toward_ the dead end at the end of the hallway, not back. He was pacing. Outside her room. In the middle of the night.

Hermione froze, not sure what to do with that information. What was he doing? Was he guarding her door? That was quite possible, considering his vehement dislike of the idea of her staying unprotected in that room. Well, if he was, what did that mean? This wasn't something that could simply be brushed off as a sign of friendship. After all, Harry wasn't camped outside her door, waiting for someone to come attack her.

This had to mean something else. Something deeper.

She was distracted from her train of thought when she felt a chill go up her spine. She shivered and wrapped the blanket more firmly around her torso, doing a double take when she saw that Severus' gaze was directed nowhere near her eyes. He was staring rather intently at her legs, which were bare thanks to the nightgown only coming down to her knees, with that peculiar expression she'd never been able to figure out before.

Hermione could only gape at him for a moment, flashing back to that moment during the summer when that clerk called her 'Legs' and, for a moment, she'd wondered if Severus thought of her as his. All the times Loki called her 'Legs' popped into her head, and finally she remembered his explanation ("_You've got nice legs, Legs_") and how he'd laughed when she asked if men were attracted to her legs.

The fact that Severus was staring at her legs was definitely, definitely not a sign of friendship, she decided.

Hermione nearly burst with the excitement starting to fill her. Severus was attracted to her. That was enough to make her hyperventilate. She took slow, steady breaths, coaching herself to relax. The silence had been stretching on for some time now, and she needed to fill it with something. _Should I ask…?_ she wondered, then shook her head.

Now was certainly not the time to go asking him about all this. Besides, if he wanted her to know, wouldn't he have said something already? Plus, he'd already promised to tell her at the end of the year. She could wait three and a half more months, couldn't she? Hermione swallowed heavily, not sure if she could now.

She took a breath, nodding to herself. She could do it. She could let it go for now. Where had they left off? They'd been talking about Crookshanks, she was sure. That was easy enough. She could just explain herself—that was nice and simple and, most importantly, didn't require a lot of thought.

"He's still in the hospital wing and I couldn't sleep and I miss him and you're staring at my legs," she blurted.

Her cheeks went aflame and she nearly dropped the blanket in the rush to cover her traitorous mouth. _Shite, shite, shite!_ she screamed in her head. _You couldn't shut your big mouth just once, could you? You _had_ to say something!_

She slowly dragged her gaze back to Severus, finding him staring at her eyes now. But rather than that intense expression he'd been using on her legs, he was now looking stunned, almost vacant. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, well," he said weakly, then cleared his throat again. "You must be chilled."

Hermione gradually lowered her hand from her mouth and nodded.

"A little," she managed.

There was another pause. She would just not say anything more about it, just like he was doing. Nothing more at all. She could say good night and go back into her room and let that be the end of it.

"I didn't think you had patrol tonight," she blurted instead.

_Oh, for the love of all things good and pure!_ She nearly smacked her forehead, but decided that that wouldn't be the best decision, considering he was watching her. Severus cleared his throat again.

"I'll…walk you to the hospital wing," he said quietly. "If you like."

Hermione hesitated. If she said yes, she would probably end up blurting out something else inappropriate. But if she said no, it would seem like she was only not going to see Crookshanks because of him. It was her turn to clear her throat.

"Yeah. Okay," she almost squeaked.

Severus nodded once and gestured for her to precede him, as usual. Hermione gathered herself and her blanket as she walked ahead of him, trying to keep her shoes from making any noise on the stone floor. Hogwarts was eerily quiet when no one was awake. Without the sound of so many conversations and the heat of all the bodies, it seemed more like a dungeon.

_That's good_, she thought, nodding to herself, _Think about something else. Think about dungeons._ Dungeons were, of course, built to be uncomfortable, although she found the Potions room rather cozy. That likely had to do with who her professor had been for five years in a row. The professor who was walking right beside her and who'd been guarding her door and who was attracted to her.

Hermione sighed, digging her hand into her hair and rubbing at her head. She was starting to get a headache from all these thoughts. Obviously, she needed to come to terms with this. Severus liked her. He clearly wanted to wait until the end of the year to address it, or, as her friends had said many times, he would've already said something. This meant she would have to wait three and a half months for any possibility of a relationship between them.

She'd waited almost seven years. What was three more months, really? Of course, the first six years and nine months were spent assuming that he hated her, was indifferent to her, or liked her as a friend. She wondered how long he had liked her and how long he'd had to go not knowing that she loved him. Well, she couldn't ask him, of course.

As much as she hated it, she would respect Severus' wishes. She wasn't sure why it was so important to wait until she was no longer an apprentice, but this was what he felt was right. Apparently.

Hermione realized with a jolt that they were at the hospital wing, and Severus was holding open the door for her. She murmured a quiet thank you and stepped past him into the dark room, heading for the screened-off area holding her cat. She pulled it open slowly and waved for Severus to come in as well. He ducked underneath the bar and followed her inside, glancing out of the area occasionally.

Hermione leaned down next to a sleeping Crookshanks and gently stroked his head. He stirred and immediately purred when he became awake enough to realize he was being petted. He blinked heavily and swung his head around to look at Hermione. She smiled warmly and his purr intensified. He crawled his way over to her and nuzzled her cheeks.

"Hi, Crooks," she whispered. "How are you?"

He meowed, and she put a finger to her lips. She smiled at him again.

"Would you like to meet someone?" she asked quietly. "This is S—Professor Snape. You remember me talking about him, don't you?" She stroked his head.

Crookshanks' head swiveled to stare at Severus, who dipped his head at the cat, but didn't come any closer. Crookshanks narrowed his eyes at him and then looked up at Hermione with a look that plainly said, 'I don't like him.' She laughed quietly and leaned to whisper in Crookshanks' ear.

"That's Severus, you know. I hope you grow to tolerate him, at least," she murmured.

Crookshanks purred, but he still looked grumpy. She stroked him for a few moments longer until he went back to sleep, then kissed him on top of the head and returned to Severus' side. She nodded in the affirmative that they could go, and he walked her back up to her rooms, remaining stoic and silent.

At this point, Hermione couldn't wait to crawl back into bed. Her legs were freezing, and even her blanket wasn't protecting her from the chill of the castle anymore. Granted, she was pretty much always cold at night, but that was why she had six blankets on her bed. And, now that she'd had so much to think about, she was feeling pretty tired, too.

However, Hermione still felt that she couldn't leave things this way. She had to let him know that she was all right with it, that she would wait for him. And she still wanted to apologize for their argument. Now that she knew where he was coming from, wanting to protect her out of affection, she felt even worse about what she'd said.

They arrived at her door in short order and Severus stepped back when she opened it up. She paused a moment and turned back, taking a deep breath.

"I really wanted to apologize…for our argument last night," she began softly. "I didn't mean what I said, and I'm…I'm just really sorry."

Severus eyed her for a moment, then seemed to snap out of it, and nodded, avoiding her gaze.

"No apology is necessary," he said stiffly. "You were merely expressing how you felt."

"No, but I didn't—" she broke off when he met her eyes and exhaled.

He took another breath, but let it go again, as though he'd changed his mind. Hermione swallowed and tried again, softer this time.

"I didn't realize what you were saying," she finished.

He frowned, staring at a point in middle space. After a moment, he let his eyes drift to hers and he nodded.

"And now?" he prompted, arching a brow.

She smiled for the briefest moment. "I…I think I get it. I'm just sorry it took me so long."

Severus took a moment to consider his words. When he spoke, it was very carefully, as though to be sure she understood his underlying meaning.

"Then you will…switch to a new room?" he inquired hesitantly.

She shook her head. "No, I'll stick to what was originally decided, as long as no one else changes their mind about it."

He seemed to relax at this, but only the tiniest bit, for the tense air about him didn't leave. Hermione offered him another smile and Severus nodded once. He let out a breath.

"Good night, sir," she said at length.

"Good night, Miss Granger," he replied.

She paused, smiling a little. "Do be sure to get a _little_ sleep."

Before he could reply to that, Hermione slipped back into her rooms and grinned to herself. She could certainly wait three and a half months, now that she had a pretty good idea what he was going to say.


	22. Seventh Year: Part Fourteen

**Disclaimer:** At this point, this is probably moot, but just in case someone is clicking through each chapter to make sure…this isn't mine.

* * *

Hermione waltzed down the stairs and took a turn for the Great Hall. She was a bit later for breakfast than usual, but it wasn't really a big deal—it was Sunday, after all, and she just felt like relaxing. She waved at a third year Ravenclaw on his way out and grinned at him, ignoring the puzzled look he gave her in favor of heading through the doors.

With one quick sweep of the room, she found Luna, Draco, and Asher, all of whom she felt the inexplicable urge to wave hello to. Luna actually did look up, so she waved emphatically at her friend, who smiled back. Hermione grinned and trotted down the tables to where her friends were sitting. Harry and Ron were already frowning at her in confusion, so she put a finger to her lips and sprung into the empty spot next to Ginny, issuing a cheerful, "Good morning!"

Ginny promptly sprayed Neville with pumpkin juice.

"Ugh!" he exclaimed, wiping his face disgustedly. "Ginny spit!"

"Sorry, Neville," Ginny said shortly, then turned to Hermione. "What the bloody hell are you doing? You scared the daylights out of me."

Hermione laughed. "Sorry about that. Here, Neville."

She whipped out her wand and cast a quick drying spell, then turned to Ginny again.

"Sorry—I guess I just expected you to have nerves of steel," she said brightly. "How on earth do you play Quidditch with a reflex like that?"

Ginny stared at her like she'd never seen her before. Hermione just smiled and turned to Harry and Ron, who looked stunned and amused in equal measure. Neville cleared his throat when no one said anything and got back to shoveling down food.

"So, what's for breakfast?" Hermione asked unnecessarily, then picked up her fork and smiled delightedly. "Ooh, good, eggs in a basket! I'm _starving_!" And she promptly dug in with unusual vigor.

Ginny exchanged a glance with the boys, all of whom shrugged their shoulders and avoided her gaze. She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, facing their glowing friend.

"Okay, what's going on?" she asked, frowning suspiciously.

Hermione glanced between them and swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"You're like…giddy," Ginny replied warily.

"Sleep with the hanger in your mouth again?" Neville asked.

Hermione laughed again in that easy, carefree way. "Of course not! For one thing, it's physically impossible." She glanced around at them again. "What? Is there something _wrong_ with me being in a good mood?"

Harry, Ron, and Neville automatically shook their heads. "No!"

She smiled. "Besides, why shouldn't I be in a good mood? I have wonderful friends, a gorgeous cat, who, if anyone's wondering, is getting close to being one hundred percent better, three understanding masters, I'm three and a half months away from becoming a Mistress of three lovely subjects, it's one of the best days of the week, and, best of all, I'm having an absolutely delicious breakfast made by fantastically talented house-elves."

All four of them stared at her, mortified and confused in equal measures. Hermione tossed her hair aside and went back to eating contently, completely unaware of her friends' shared shock.

"I-I've never heard her use so many positive adjectives in one sentence," Ron whispered to Harry.

Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Just try going back to eating. Maybe she'll get mad about how you talk and eat at the same time."

Ron nodded and all three boys hurriedly went back to eating. Ginny, on the other hand, couldn't stop staring at Hermione, who smiled at her and swallowed again.

"Yes?" she asked happily.

"You had sex, didn't you?" Ginny retorted flatly.

Harry promptly choked on his food. Ron pounded him on the back as best he could while trying not to spit out the food in his own mouth. Neville froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. Hermione, in the meantime, laughed—hard.

"No!" she exclaimed, grinning at her redheaded friend. "Of course not! What made you think that?"

Ginny shrugged. "You're just…you're _really_ happy."

"And this upsets you?" she inquired curiously.

"No! It's just…unexpected," she replied, shaking her head. "I mean, you have plenty of reason to not be happy, too, and you haven't been so happy lately. Your cat got sick because of my stupid brother, a—"

"But he's getting better, and Ron isn't stupid," Hermione protested, smiling widely. "He simply doesn't know very much about cats, or Kneazles, which is understandable since he doesn't have either of those, let alone a crossbreed. And, besides, he's more of a dog person, I think, which makes a lot of sense since his Patronus is one."

"Someone destroyed Loki and your rooms and your music box," Neville added helpfully, when Ginny could only stare.

"Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch are working on fixing Loki," Hermione said cheerfully. "And on Tuesday, I'm going to check with him to see how they're coming. Plus, even though my armchair was ruined, we were able to clean up everything else using magic." She smiled. "And my music box was already broken anyway."

"What the hell happened to you?" Ron asked, shaking his head.

"Nothing! I'm just in a good mood!" she replied, feigning exasperation. "Am I not allowed to be in one? Is that against the rules in our little group? 'Hermione must always be upset about something, be it pets, books, evil Dark Lords, or otherwise'?"

When they all ducked their heads, muttering, "No", she grinned to herself and looked over their heads to the High Table, where Severus had been staring at her for several moments. Hermione smiled at him and he snapped out of his trance, glancing down at his plate briefly before meeting her eyes again. She sighed happily and forced her eyes back to her breakfast. It really _was_ a good day.

* * *

After breakfast, Hermione managed to get the same reactions from Draco that she'd gotten from the rest of them, while Luna accepted her cheerfulness with little more than a smile. When Hermione asked what they were going to do for the day, Harry automatically claimed studying was on his agenda, and the rest of them followed suit. To their everlasting shock, she drooped a little, but apparently decided against giving them heart attacks by suggesting they do something else. Instead, she went off to the library and checked out several books to read while relaxing on a hospital bed with Crookshanks.

Harry was left with a few options, along with the rest of their friends: actually study, do homework, or do something fun. Draco and Ginny almost immediately chose doing something fun. Neville decided to work on a Herbology project he was doing outside of class. Ron went off with Lavender, most likely to do something fun, too. So Harry trailed after Luna and went to the Room of Requirement, where they proceeded to practice defensive spells for a large portion of the day.

Although Hermione's crisis had interrupted their argument and had them banding together to support her, Harry could still feel the underlying tension. Luna wasn't one to stay upset or to even show that she was upset, but he could tell he'd hurt her. He really hadn't wanted to do anything to mess this up—he was the happiest he could ever remember being with Luna.

So, while she was working on a stunning spell, he gathered his courage and swallowed down his pride. It was always hard to apologize, for some reason, despite the fact that he'd spent his eleven years at the Dursleys' apologizing for existing. Maybe that was why, he pondered. He'd gotten sick of apologizing.

Hermione was right, though. He had to let Luna do what she felt was right and support her.

"Luna?" he began, clearing his throat and watching his feet.

She lowered her wand and turned to him. "Yes?"

Harry cleared his throat again. "I-I just…I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about our fight and what I said," he forced out. She only stared at him, so he went on. "I didn't mean to question you, and I-I don't want to change you or anything. It's just that…I don't like it when people hurt you, cause I…I kind of like you. But if you want me to step down, I will."

Luna reached out and slowly wrapped his hand in hers. His heart raced a little faster and he looked at her hopefully. She smiled a little.

"It's okay, Harry," she said gently. "You need to protect the people you love. It's who you are. I'm not being hurt, and if I were, I promise I would tell you. I don't want to change you either."

He grinned and used the hand he was holding to tug her against him, burrowing into her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back, letting out a sigh of contentedness. After a long embrace, he kissed her cheek and stroked her arms, then smiled at her.

"I love you," he said happily.

Luna smiled serenely. "I love you, too."

"All right, so it's settled," Harry said, grinning. "We'll never argue about anything so stupid again, right?"

"Right," she agreed, kissing him briefly. "There's no need, after all."

He kissed her again. "Exactly. From now on, we'll only argue about where to eat out and who should babysit the kids."

"Kids plural?" she asked, looking a little surprised.

He grinned. "Yeah. I figure we'll have two: a boy and a girl. Hopefully the boy will come first so he can help me get rid of all our girl's boyfriends."

"Won't Ron help with that?" she asked, but she was smiling.

"Oh, of course. But it never hurts to have back-up," Harry replied, smirking. "Besides, Ron's a Weasley—who knows how many spitfire girls he'll have to watch out for when he starts getting busy with Lavender. And you know Aunt Ginny is going to teach them all the tricks of the trade and be no help at all."

Luna laughed. "I like that you think about the future."

He smiled and kissed her, that peaceful feeling she brought out in him taking over and leaving him as tranquil as could be.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey brought Hermione meals all Sunday, since she didn't feel much like moving once she'd settled next to Crookshanks and started reading. It was such a lovely time that she even ended up taking a nap with him after lunch. Of course, it was completely ruined when her friends burst through the doors in a panic, apparently hoping and praying she hadn't fallen off the Astronomy Tower or something.

After Hermione assured them that she was not, in fact, dead or dying, they relaxed and spent some time petting Crookshanks, who rather enjoyed being worshiped. She could tell he was feeling much better, since he would occasionally bat Lavender's hair, just for the fun of it. Lavender used to hate it when she lived with them, but she was nice enough not to say anything about it now, except to pry his head away when he started trying to eat her blonde curls.

Her friends left again a while later, supposedly to study some more, so Hermione kept working on the books. After dinner, she thanked Madam Pomfrey and gave Crookshanks a peck on the head, then headed off to her quarters, where Ginny had promised to meet her. She ran into Severus on the way and couldn't help but give him that same bright smile she had at breakfast. He cleared his throat, bid her good day, and took off, giving her a little déjà vu.

Once in her room, Hermione and Ginny spent a long time drinking tea and discussing what Draco could possibly want to ask her, since he'd brought something up but never got to say anything. Ginny was on the verge of squealing when it occurred to her that he might be proposing, but Hermione managed to calm her down and make her realize that that was highly unlikely. Although a definite possibility for the future.

When Ginny left, Hermione finished off her relaxing day with a _long_ bath in which she simply thought about Severus. It was the best bath ever, although she spent the first hour in bed afterward tossing and turning at the thought of Severus outside her door again. She felt like she needed to do something for him. Of course, she desperately wanted to go out and see him, but since that was likely not an option, she wanted to do something in return. Once she finally figured something out, she was out like a light.

Monday went as it usually did. She ate breakfast with her friends, headed off to McGonagall's room, and taught a lesson to the first years, researching between teaching and having tea with McGonagall between classes. McGonagall was the least disturbed by Hermione's mood out of everyone she'd talked to yet. Her friends had gotten used to it by now, thank Merlin, but their initial reaction wasn't the best. McGonagall seemed to think it was lovely, but otherwise made no comment.

After dinner, Hermione felt the need to take another bath, so she willingly gave in to the urge. By the time she got out, Severus would already be outside, so it was too late to do her favor. She would just have to do it the next night, she decided merrily, and plopped into bed.

On Tuesday, Hermione went off to the Charms room with a bounce in her step. McGonagall had either warned Flitwick about her cheerful mood, or he was naturally as accepting as she was, for when Hermione trotted in with a happy, "Good morning!" he simply turned from the blackboard and returned it, smiling back.

She slung her bag onto the desk he left at the front of the room for her and took a breath, waiting for him to take a break from writing instructions on the board. When he pulled the piece of chalk from midair where he'd been levitating it and set it down, Hermione hurried forward, leaning against his desk.

"Sir, I just wanted to ask…how is Loki coming?" she asked hopefully, fidgeting with the ring on her thumb and bouncing on her heels.

Flitwick smiled, gathering papers on his desk. "Ah, yes! Madam Hooch and I have been working diligently on him every evening now, and I believe he should be ready to be reinstated by the end of the week."

She let out the breath she'd been holding. "Thank you _so_ much. He'll still remember me and everything, won't he? And he'll have full mobility?"

He nodded. "Yes, of course. He may also be able to give us a clue as to who your intruder was."

"Do you know if the Headmaster has any new information about that?"

"Unfortunately, no. I believe the potions Professor Snape has to brew take days, although you'll have to ask him to be sure," he replied, shaking his head. "Or Professor Slughorn. I never was a good Potions student. I barely understand the subject. But then again, I'm a horrible cook, too."

Hermione laughed. "All right, what's on the agenda for today?"

"Well, let's see, the first class should be here soon, and…."

* * *

Severus mounted the last step and strode past the snoring Fat Lady, rubbing his forehead as he made his way toward the door down the hallway. It was his fifth night guarding Hermione's door, and he was already starting to feel the lack of sleep affect him. Granted, he never got very good sleep anyway, but—

He froze in place and stared at the wooden stool sitting outside Hermione's door. He scowled and glanced about the empty hallway, listening intently for any signs of a prankster student. After a few moments, he was forced to conclude that he was alone in the dark hallway, and it occurred to him then that Hermione may have left the stool out for him.

Severus frowned at it, hesitantly making his way forward. The seat of the stool was covered in a maroon felt padding, and a small slip of parchment awaited him. His scowl deepened as he snatched it up. The last couple of times he'd received a small slip of parchment, it hadn't led to good things. He scanned the lines, which said simply, "_I thought perhaps standing night after night was getting a bit tiring. P.S. Before you ask, I've charmed this note for your eyes only._"

He exhaled heavily and folded the parchment, scowling deeply at it. Hermione's knowledge of his feelings was turning out to be one of the worst things that could've ever happened. Severus had thought it was torturous when he knew how she felt but could do nothing about it. The last nine months now seemed like warm-up to this.

Whether intentionally or not, now that Hermione knew, she flirted with him constantly. At each and every meal they both came to, she would toss her hair in that obliviously erotic way she had, and then she would smile at him. Her smiles were normally lovely and bright, but now those guarded smiles seemed like glares compared to the eager, adoring grins she gave him.

And the day they met in the hallway was…there were simply no words. Not only had she smiled at him, but she also unconsciously broke their unspoken rule of standing a certain distance apart. Of course, he'd done it a few times himself, including Friday evening when he'd even gone so far as to hug her. However, it was a tad different when he was edging into her personal space and startling her than when she was inching toward him, ignorant of both her movements and of any effect she was having on him.

Severus was now kicking himself for both Friday evening and his decision to guard her door. Letting her cry on his shoulder had been a huge mistake, for he'd almost been stupid enough to ask her to stay then. Fortunately, at the last moment, he came to his senses and let her leave. And then he'd been stupid yet again, bringing Hermione just out of his grasp with that one night.

Years of torture by the Dark Lord could not have prepared him for the torment of waiting the next three months and eleven days for Hermione Granger. With a heavy sigh, Severus slid her note into his pocket and settled down on the stool, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the sudden headache that came upon him.

* * *

"Okay, so then we take the pincushion and…um…" Asher faltered, reading over the notes he'd written on the assignment Flitwick gave them the previous day.

"Did it really have to be a pincushion?" Nott snapped irritably, rubbing his left arm vigorously.

Flitwick was downright horrible at picking partners for projects. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were all even, but since there were five Slytherins and three Hufflepuffs, Asher was stuck working with Nott, the arse who attacked Hermione. At first he'd thought it would be okay—it was just in his nature to think that, though, apparently.

Nott was late for showing up, and then he proceeded to sit there with his chin on his fists for the first half hour, leaving Asher to decide that they should use a pincushion for the project, because…well, that's all he could think of. Nott had been acting kind of weird the whole time, too. He was glum and distant, and he kept rubbing his arm. Asher's friend Jessica had also noted that he hadn't been showing up to meals recently.

Asher just shrugged it off at the time, but now he was a little suspicious. He shrugged at Nott.

"I dunno. If you want to use something else, just name it!" he said cheerfully.

Nott grumbled at him and rubbed his arm again. Asher shook his head and turned back to his parchment, bouncing his knee absently.

"So we take the pincushion and enlarge it," he said, pulling out his wand to do just that.

"Why?" Nott scoffed, rolling his eyes. "This project is stupid. What's the point?"

Asher shrugged. "I dunno. I just like getting O's, and I figure actually doing it is the best way." He grinned.

Nott sneered at him. "You Hufflepuffs are all—"

"What is with your arm, mate?" he interrupted, distracted by the constant rubbing.

The Slytherin glanced down at his arm and pulled his sleeve all the way over it, glaring defensively at Asher.

"Nothing. It just itches, all right?" he snapped. "You got a problem with that?"

"Nope," he said honestly. "All right, so I'll enlarge the pincushion, and you can do the next part."

Nott grumbled to himself and Asher smiled. If he couldn't get the bloke to cooperate, at least he could annoy him, which would be amusing. He knew from Snape that Slytherins hated constant smiling. Of course, with Snape, it wasn't amusing when he got annoyed—it was just scary.

* * *

At lunch, Hermione sat between Harry and Ron as they read the _Prophet_ together, something they hadn't done for years. She was starting to remember why they'd stopped, since they didn't all fit behind it anymore. Besides, it used to be almost necessary for them all to sit together, or they couldn't hold the paper up—their arms simply didn't extend that far.

Now she was in the middle, holding up the paper for them, and they were trying to squeeze in around her and read the paper over her shoulder, since they couldn't fit under her arms. A few years ago, it might've still worked, since she and Harry were still so much smaller than Ron. But now that Harry didn't live with the Dursleys and he played so much Quidditch, he was broad and muscular, which made up for how short he was.

Hermione sighed and tried to shift to a more comfortable position, but they were pressed so hard against her that she could hardly breathe. She was still a lot smaller than the both of them, which made the fact that she couldn't move a bit ridiculous. She huffed and lowered the paper, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, this isn't working," she announced. "I'm already small enough without you two squishing me into nothingness. Someone else needs to hold the paper up."

"You're not small!" Harry protested, patting her back. "You're…you're, um…."

"Large?" she offered.

"No!" he and Ron both shouted.

She winced at their volume.

"What I meant is that…is that…um…" Harry stammered, clearing his throat.

"You're not small, but you are not large," Ron added, nodding sagely. "You're medium. Bu-but not in a bad way."

"Yeah, your personality an-and your looks are not medium," he agreed uncomfortably. "They're top-notch, is what we mean. You're like a…."

"You're perfect," Ron blurted.

"Yeah! You're like th-the perfect…shaped and sized woman," Harry said awkwardly.

Hermione smirked. "Are you done?" They nodded sheepishly. "Good. Now could you hold up the paper and try not to squish me?"

They hurried to pick the paper up and eased away from her a bit, giving her room to breathe at last. She wondered if they did this to their girlfriends and considered having a talk with them about how women aren't actually made of air. After all, poor Lavender and Luna probably didn't appreciate being squashed very much, and they probably felt weird about bringing it up.

"Hey, look at this," Harry said suddenly, pointing to a section at his side of the paper. "Looks like the Ministry didn't look very thoroughly the first time."

Hermione squinted to peer at the article and Ron's head appeared over her shoulder as he read along with them. Apparently the Ministry had finished looking through the shopkeeper's collection of wizard artifacts, and only one item was stolen: an Invisibility Cloak. It was fairly obvious why someone would want one of those, but there hadn't been any reported robberies or anything of the sort in Stranraer. Not since the shopkeeper was murdered.

"That's odd," Ron muttered, frowning. "I didn't know there were any Invisibility Cloaks in Scotland. Besides yours, of course."

"Well, they're supposed to be rare, aren't they?" Hermione retorted. "I doubt he wanted to advertise it. Especially considering what ended up happening to him."

"But why didn't the killer just go for the wizard museum in London?" Harry asked. "Don't they have one?"

"Yeah, but security is way high there," Ron replied. "And for good reason."

"And perhaps the shopkeeper's home was more convenient," Hermione added, peering at the article. "After all, why travel to London when you live in Scotland, with one just within your reach?"

"That's true," Harry said thoughtfully. "But that would mean he had to know the shopkeeper, right? Otherwise he wouldn't know about the Invisibility Cloak."

"Not necessarily. He could've traced him through a buyer," Ron pointed out.

"Hold on. It also says that the Ministry had to destroy the shopkeeper's thirty year old, prize-winning Golden Pothos plant, because it was trying to kill the Aurors who entered the store," Hermione added, frowning.

"Um…wouldn't a thirty year old plant know how to keep its vines to itself?" Ron asked, brow furrowing.

"Ron, Golden Pothos are Muggle plants," she reminded him, sighing. "They're not even magical. The only way he kept it alive was probably through some sort of potion, but that shouldn't affect it this way. And even if it did, it should've happened a long time ago."

"Maybe that's what killed him, then," Harry said slowly. "I mean, it makes sense, right? He was strangled and there were no fingerprints. And nobody broke in."

"Yes, but _Alohomora_ is a fairly easy spell," Hermione retorted. "And it's not like the plant stole the Invisibility Cloak."

"But wouldn't the plant have killed the intruder, too?" Ron asked.

"Not if the intruder was the one charming the plant," she shot back.

The three of them froze when they simultaneously felt eyes concentrated on them. They all exchanged glances and slowly, hesitantly, lowered the paper. Severus was standing on the other side of the table, looking perturbed about something or other. He scowled and arched a brow at them, but before he could say anything, Ron started stammering.

"W-we were just…reading the paper, sir," he began, glancing at Harry and Hermione for support. "I-it's good to keep up on daily news, you know. So we just thought we'd read about it and…you know, see what's going on. We weren't doing anything. Right, guys?"

He glanced at Harry and Hermione, who stared at him. He pouted and Harry sighed.

"Right," he said, fake-casually. "We were just reading the paper. Discussing a murder case."

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, panicked.

"That's right, Professor Snape," Hermione added, in the same fake voice as Harry. "We're discussing a murder case, which actually _is_ a completely innocent activity for which we do not have to make excuses, unlike in previous years."

She and Harry looked at Ron meaningfully and he blushed.

"Oh, right," he muttered, then swung his arm around Hermione's shoulder, chuckling. "That's right. We don't have to hide stuff from you anymore. So this guy in Stranraer died, right? And his plant was trying to kill all the Aurors, and someone stole an Invisibility Cloak from the dead guy." He paused. "What are your thoughts on that?"

Hermione let her forehead fall to her hand, rubbing it hard. Harry rubbed her back comfortingly. She knew it was a bit foolish, but she'd hoped Ron could show Severus how perceptive he could be, since that was the best chance Ron had at gaining any respect from him. Apparently it was a long shot.

"My assumption would be that a skilled Herbologist charmed the plant to murder the victim, in order to avoid alerting the authorities to an Unforgiveable, and took the Invisibility Cloak, perhaps to find his way into a secure building," Severus said smoothly, never pausing. He eyed Ron. "Of course, any half-wit first year is capable of that reasoning."

Hermione moved her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. She bit her lip hard and glanced at Ron apologetically.

"Judging from Miss Granger's expression, I'm sure she was about to suggest that very thing," Severus added. He dipped his head toward her and Harry. "Good day."

Hermione returned his nod, smiling briefly at him before turning back to an open-mouthed Ron, giggling.

"Well, that was just…mean," Ron grumped when Severus walked away.

Harry chuckled, patting a near-tears Hermione on the back. "Sorry, mate. You asked for that one."

* * *

Hermione sighed irritably. She really had to use the loo, but leaving the safety of her six blankets seemed so unappealing. Just sticking a hand out from under the covers spread goose bumps over her arm. She squirmed, rubbing her feet together under the blankets. She had to make a run for it—that was all there was to it. She took a deep breath, preparing to leap out of bed.

_This is ridiculous. You can face some of the most vicious Death Eaters alive, but you can't get out of bed to use the bathroom_, she thought, rolling her eyes. At last, she braced herself and sprang out from under the blankets, taking her favorite one with her. She squeaked at the coldness of the floor on her feet and trotted gingerly into the lav.

By the time Hermione reentered the bedroom, she was wide awake, and even crawling back under the warmth of her covers didn't coax her back to sleep. She huffed and tossed and turned several times before coming to the conclusion that she wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon. She supposed she could read for a while, or sneak out and see Crookshanks again.

Hermione started. Maybe Severus was still outside her door. She glanced at her watch and shook her head. There was no way—it was two in the morning. Still…it wouldn't hurt to check on her way to grab a book. She flung aside her blankets and tugged her favorite one around her shoulders again, snatching her wand on her way by the nightstand.

She sauntered down the stairs and meandered to the door, pondering what book she should read until it was time to get up. Dickens was probably too wordy this time of night, which ruled out Austen, as well. Shakespeare was still viable, though.

Hermione pulled open the door and peered out into the hallway. Her breath hitched when she found Severus sitting on the stool she'd left out for him. She pulled her blanket more firmly around her, the chill of the hall getting to her already.

"You're still up?" she whispered, and was surprised to hear how hoarse her voice was. Severus only looked at her, so she came further out and yawned. "It's two in the morning. Why aren't you in bed?"

"As accomplished as I may be, even I cannot be in two places at once," Severus replied, a touch irritably.

"Well, sure you can. Just borrow Professor McGonagall's Time Turner," she teased, smiling when he arched a brow at her. "I'm kidding. I used to be able to at least amuse you. What happened to that?" She arched her brow, imitating him mock-seriously.

"My apologies. _Nothing_ amuses me at two in the morning," he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Really? Cause I get giddy at the two in the morning," she said thoughtfully, "and then _everything_ amuses me."

"How could you possibly be…giddy?" he retorted, brow arching again.

"Well, I don't think it's so much that I'm giddy that it's two in the morning," she explained, shrugging. "It's just that I'm so tired that everything is funny."

Hermione glanced at him to see if he could accept this explanation, and Severus dipped his head.

"I see," he grumbled.

She watched him for a long moment as he sighed and rubbed his forehead. It occurred to her that he might be tired enough to be persuaded that standing outside her door every night was madness. Not that she didn't appreciate the thought behind it, of course, but this was ridiculous.

"You need rest," she said gently.

His response to that was to grunt and pinch the bridge of his nose again.

"Come on inside. I'll make you some tea," she encouraged, opening the door a bit more.

Severus' head shot up and he stared at her, almost suspiciously. Hermione sighed.

"My feet are freezing and you need to sit down on something more comfortable," she said flatly. "No one's going to be breaking any rules."

He considered her for a long moment, waging an internal war, apparently. She considered going in without him and leaving the door open, but that wouldn't fix either of their problems. Her legs really were freezing. At long last, he nodded sharply and stood, following her into her quarters.

If it hadn't been two in the morning, Hermione perhaps would've been a bit more nervous about his presence. Or not, she wasn't really sure. She actually felt fairly comfortable with it. She lit the fireplace from across the room and went to her tea service, gesturing toward the couch as she went.

"You can make yourself comfortable," she informed him absently.

She poured them each a cup of tea, putting a drop of honey in hers and a lemon in his. When she turned about to bring the tray, she found that he was sitting on the very edge of her couch on the opposite side, looking more tense than he had in the hallway. She set the tray down on the magically patched coffee table and handed him his cup, which he took robotically. She sat back with hers, pulling her blanket over her legs and sighing with relief.

After a sip and watching him stare intently into the fireplace, Hermione crossed her legs and took a breath.

"You know, when I said something more comfortable, I did mean my couch," she informed him sagely. "It won't bite you, promise."

He switched his gaze onto her. She smiled briefly and took another sip while his eyes traveled up and down her body most distractingly. He grunted and took a drink, forcing his eyes onto the fire again. Gradually, he allowed his back to touch the couch, but he never fully relaxed into it. She supposed it was better that he had some back support than none.

After some silence, Hermione braced herself, preparing to broach the tough subject. He was idly rocking his tea, making it swirl, and staring into middle space, so she supposed this was as relaxed he was going to get.

"Y-you know…" she began, exhaling. His black eyes snapped to hers with intense focus. She took another breath. "You really don't have to guard my door every night." When he only stared, she hastened to add, "I mean, look at you, you're exhausted. This can't be good for your classes, and I know you want to protect me, but I want you to be healthy. And getting no sleep isn't healthy. Trust me, I know."

Severus eyed her for a long moment, dropping his gaze to his tea briefly before meeting her eyes again. His voice was quiet when he said, "What makes you think I would be sleeping, knowing you were unprotected and alone?"

She sighed. "I'll be fine. Really. I know how to deal with situations like this. Besides, do you think whoever this person is will see you sitting outside my door and not think twice?" She smiled a little. "And even if they _don't_ think twice—even if they charge ahead anyway—how alert are you going to be running on such little sleep?"

He shook his head. "I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Professor Flitwick told me Loki will be back up by the end of the week, and Crookshanks is almost better. I won't be alone."

"A portrait and a cat?" He scoffed. "I fail to see how they can even hope to protect you."

Hermione frowned, but he never faltered. The determined set of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze convinced her: even tired, there was no convincing this man. Of course, his stubbornness was something she loved about him—he stood firm for what he believed in, and she so admired that. Still, when his health was in jeopardy, she couldn't just give up. She decided to try a different tactic and sighed.

"All right, well…then sleep on my couch," she said, moving to catch his eyes when he huffed and avoided her gaze. "We'll have a better chance of catching this person if you're inside. And anyway, that way we both win: you get to keep me safe, and I get to know that you're getting enough sleep to function."

He considered her for a moment, then sighed. "I don't think that—"

"Look, I told you: I won't even address it until you want to," she assured him. "I meant it."

Severus arched a brow at her and Hermione didn't hide her confusion with this reaction. Rather than explain, he turned away and took another drink of his tea, his thinking scowl overtaking his expression. She let him have as long as he needed, sipping her own tea and relishing in the fact that he was in her quarters, considering being there every night. It wasn't sleeping in her bed and declaring his love for her, but she'd take what she could get.

It might be a little hard not to do anything about the fact that the man she loved was sleeping on her couch, but she was certain she could discipline herself to stay put. She'd never been very forward with men, anyway. There was also the issue of Loki, of course, but she was sure she could get him not to say anything.

She smiled behind her teacup at Severus. It was amazing. A week ago, if someone told her she'd be having this discussion with him, she would've told them they were insane.

Severus sighed at last. "All right," he agreed.

She stared, wide-eyed. "Really?"

He dipped his head. "I can't have you waking up this early every morning to see if I'm here, can I?"

Hermione laughed, grinning at him. "I guess not. Thank you."

He nodded again and silence fell between them. Her eyes started to wander, so she cleared her throat and stood abruptly, reaching for his teacup. As she brought the tray back over to the stand on the far wall, she let herself babble, just to fill the silence.

"You're welcome to transfigure it into a bed, if you'd be more comfortable," she told him. "Although, there are already a lot of spells on it just to keep it together, so it might not work. I have a bunch of extra blankets and pillows upstairs, if you need them and—what's wrong?"

Hermione frowned concernedly and Severus snapped out of his trance, clearing his throat and looking pointedly away from her. She glanced down at herself and realized with a start that she'd left her blanket on the couch, and that her nightgown not only revealed her legs this time, but cut rather low on the chest. She muttered an apology, hurrying to snatch up her blanket and pull it around herself.

She headed toward the stairs, pausing at the bottom step and clearing her throat.

"Eh…if it'll make it easier, I'll continue to pretend I know nothing about you being here," Hermione told him hesitantly. "Outside of leaving blankets and a pillow out for you."

Severus nodded once. "That would be…acceptable."

She smiled weakly. "Good night."

"Good night," he said abruptly.

Hermione headed up the stairs, suppressing a chill that had nothing to do with being cold as she went.

* * *

"How's my Crookshanks?" Hermione asked the purring cat as she entered the hospital wing.

He practically flew off the bed, bounding up to her and rubbing against her legs. She bent and swooped him up, scratching behind his favorite ear.

"Your Crookshanks is doing quite well, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey replied, chuckling. "So well, in fact, that Hagrid and I have deemed him healthy enough to head on home today."

Hermione almost squealed in excitement. "Really? Oh, Crookshanks, isn't that exciting?!"

He gave an enthusiastic purr and nuzzled her cheeks. She laughed and smiled at Pomfrey, who looked on with a maternal smile.

"Thank you so much," she said contentedly. "I really appreciate you and Hagrid treating him. If you see Hagrid, please tell him I'll be down to visit him later on."

Pomfrey nodded. "Of course, dear."

Hermione beamed. "Okay, Crooks, my baby. Are you ready to get settled in again, hm? I bet you are, aren't you? I found your squeaky toy, by the way."

Madam Pomfrey chuckled to herself as the younger witch headed out with a ginger cat planted happily on her shoulder.

* * *

Theodore woke up with a now-familiar headache and pushed himself up from his pillow. He had that eerie feeling that something happened last night again, but he couldn't remember—again. This was about the third time it happened since Friday. He wiped his hair back from his forehead and sighed, wishing he could remember what happened after he went out for his evening walk.

It was, frankly, starting to freak him out. The first time it happened, he woke up late for class, but he'd already woken up once that day. And his arm was bleeding from a scratch—well, technically, four scratches. He'd thought about going to the hospital wing, but not being able to explain where you got an injury was never a good thing. They'd have thought he was crazy.

He'd treated it himself, and every time since then he hadn't had an injury, but he still woke up in bed, feeling completely disoriented. He thought about telling Snape. He was his Head of House, and he was supposed to deal with this sort of thing. But ever since what happened with Granger weeks before, Snape had been treating him like dirt.

Theodore sighed and rolled over, rubbing his left arm, which was now only a little pink where he'd gotten scratched. He couldn't tell Crabbe or Goyle—they wouldn't know what to do about it anyway. Pansy and Millicent would just think he was nuts. And he wasn't going to tell Draco. Basically, he couldn't turn to anybody.

What the hell could he do?

* * *

After spending the morning playing with Crookshanks, Hermione went off to her busy day. She hardly stopped working all day, and the first and second years were having so many problems she was running her legs off trying to help. Arithmancy was a little better, and Septima didn't work her too hard on the calculations she had her do for the evening. She also had a pleasant after-dinner tea with Hagrid.

Still, by the time she got back to her quarters, Hermione was exhausted. After leaving out two blankets and two pillows for Severus, she took another bath and crawled into bed, sleeping easier than she had all week with Crookshanks' comforting presence right beside her. The only sign that Severus had been there the next morning was the neatly folded blankets and pillows on the first cushion of the couch, rather than where she'd set them on the coffee table the night before.

While she researched and read the _Prophet_ with Harry that day, Hermione wondered how their practice session would go that evening. It didn't seem like it would be any different than normal, but it wasn't going to be two in the morning—their inhibitions wouldn't be lowered by how tired they were. It might not be as comfortable, especially now that he was sleeping on her couch at night.

Actually, a _lot_ had happened to change their relationship that week, she realized later, at dinner. Friday evening had been almost…intimate, and then he started guarding her door, and she discovered that he had feelings for her, and then she'd put out a stool for him, and now he was sleeping on her couch. Hermione shrugged it off. That shouldn't change anything. After all, last night, she'd felt more comfortable with him than she had in…well, ever.

* * *

Severus paced the floor of his office impatiently. He hadn't gone to dinner, knowing his mood would be horrible enough to anger Minerva tonight. Besides, he wasn't hungry. He should've gone to dinner, though, since now he was going mad waiting for Hermione to come to their practice session. He should not have agreed to sleep on her couch.

Then again, he also shouldn't have comforted her over her cat or guarded her door. He was simply full of bad decisions this week.

Her plan was working for his end of it. He was definitely certain she was safe. But he wasn't getting much sleep, and what little he did had been interrupted the night before when her cat decided that pouncing on his head was a good idea. He'd jerked away and the feline walked down his body, even having the audacity to look back with a cat smile when he reached the armrest. Then the cat sat and began cleaning himself in a way that ensured no one in a ten foot radius was getting any sleep whatsoever.

Eventually, of course, the orange creature went back up the stairs, peering between the rails and purring down at him, as if to say, "_I_ get to sleep with her and you don't. How sad for you. Buh-bye!" If the thing were _anyone_ else's cat, it'd be missing.

The rest of the two nights he'd slept on her couch so far were spent clenching his fists around edge of the two blankets, willing himself to listen to reason. At least she was satisfied, though, thinking he'd slept plenty. And she was safe. That was what was important, he told himself. Still, he had no idea how he would explain himself to Dumbledore if they were found out.

This evening, Severus planned on keeping plenty of distance between them. Rather than working with her, as he usually did, he would simply assign her a task and then busy himself with other things. Like the potions that would give them answers about her morning intruder. They would be ready soon, but there were still a few more steps he had to take.

For a moment, he lost himself in his thought process about the potions, and then the familiar two knocks hit his door. He stepped deliberately behind his desk and pulled the two notes out of his desk drawer, admonishing himself inwardly for being so pathetic. Then he finally called, "Enter."

* * *

Hermione strode into his office and paused when she saw that Severus had cleared out the room for practice as usual—except for his desk. He was currently setting a steaming cauldron onto an empty spot on the desk, alongside a couple scraps of paper. She gathered herself and shut the door, putting on her brightest smile, despite the feeling of anxiety stirring in her stomach.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" she asked cheerfully.

Severus glanced up at her. "An Engorgement Charm is the next logical step. You may practice on this," he said, lifting a quill from his desk. "I will be working here, though you may ask for assistance at any time."

Hermione frowned. That wasn't the way things usually went at all. Normally he would assign her a task and watch, coaching her when she did something wrong. It was more like working together, and now he was distancing himself from her. She sighed heavily and stepped forward to take the quill he'd indicated. There wasn't much she could do about it, after all—she couldn't exactly tell him, 'No, we're working together whether you like it or not.'

"Okay," she said instead, plucking the quill from his desk.

For some reason, she couldn't seem to move from that spot. She idly twirled the quill in her fingers, but her attention lingered on him. He didn't even notice her staring, apparently, for he simply continued stirring the potion, examining it closely. She gathered herself and turned to go, but one of the scraps of parchment caught her eye and she recognized the sloppy writing immediately.

"Are you working on finding out who broke into my rooms?" Hermione blurted.

Severus scowled at her. "Yes," he admitted reluctantly.

She set down the quill. "Well, can I help? What have you found out so far?"

"Nothing," he grumbled. "These potions take days to brew."

"But you must have some ideas," she pressed, unable to shake the feeling that he wasn't telling her something. "I know you don't need potions to deduce some things." He took a breath, but she barreled on before he could speak. "And I have a right to know. This person broke into _my_ room and destroyed _my_ things. I deserve to know what's going on."

Severus considered her, scowl deepening. Eventually, he exhaled and nodded once, sharply.

"Fine. I believe the person who broke into your rooms was Imperiused," he informed her flatly. "It is the only explanation for their apparent lack of response to the pain of being injured by your Kneazle. We may assume that the Imperiused party is a student."

She nodded. "So the actual culprit must not be a student."

"It's a safe assumption," he allowed. "If they intend on further attacks, however, they may only use the student to get inside. A person under the Imperius is not a skilled fighter."

"But it's almost impossible to sneak around, unseen, in Hogwarts," she replied, frowning in thought. "Unless they use a Disillusionment Charm, but that's not always effective, and it's difficult to perform when you're trying to do other things. And I'm guessing they couldn't masquerade as a student."

"It's doubtful," he agreed. "However, you and your friends were able to successfully traverse the halls undetected for several years, simply by using a charmed object."

"The Invisibility Cloak?" Hermione started. "The man in Scotland…you think it's connected?"

He dipped his head. "It's possible."

"But…why would someone go to so much trouble to attack _me_?" she inquired, confused. "The people with the biggest grudges against me are either in Azkaban or here at Hogwarts. And most of those in Azkaban would be after Harry and Ron, as well."

Severus didn't reply, instead watching her, as though waiting for something. Hermione wracked her brain, trying to make whatever connection he was aiming at.

"Unless…they're after me to get to someone else," she said thoughtfully, frown deepening. "But who? Harry?"

"We have time to discuss this," he said abruptly. "In the meantime, we must find out who was in your rooms."

Hermione nodded and stepped around the desk next to him. Severus handed her a dragon-hide apron and instructed her to begin grinding knotgrass. She got to work immediately, and they spent two hours working to prepare the potion, until finally he pulled out her blood-stained pillowcase and immersed it in the boiling red potion. He stirred it for several minutes and she waited as patiently as possible, playing with her thumb ring again.

Eventually, Severus cleared his throat and gestured for her to step closer.

"There are spirals in the potion," he explained in his 'instructor' voice, "indicating the use of magic on our donator."

"Really?" she asked excitedly.

Eager to see the effect he described, Hermione hurried forward and squeezed between Severus and the desk, peering into the potion. The red liquid was disturbed by several twister-like spirals, one of which had become rather like a mini-whirlpool. She nearly bounced in excitement, wondering what other details about the Imperiused student could be inferred from the potion.

Before she could ask him anything about it, Severus spoke in a husky tone that sent a chill up her spine. Pleasant heat spread over her body when she registered that he had said, "Hermione." She turned hastily in the little space left to her and looked up into his darkened eyes, nearly bumping his nose.

"Oh!" Hermione chuckled nervously. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…."

She trailed off as she realized that something was different than the last time she'd been pressed up against him. Very different, in fact. She looked down between them and her cheeks went hot when she felt her body respond to his. She met his eyes again, unable to cross her legs but wanting to so badly.

"_Ooh_." She cleared her throat. "_Sorry_."

She slid out from between him and the desk, keeping a firm grip on the edge of the wood behind her. Severus breathed a sigh of relief and took a moment to gather himself, not meeting her gaze.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you. If you would keep the potion at a simmer…I will return momentarily."

And, without looking at her once, Severus brushed past her and went through the door she'd never been to the other side of. Hermione cleared her throat several times, folding her arms and trying to get comfortable. She had heard Ginny say a couple of times that it was helpful to think about unpleasant things when you didn't want to be excited. She just hadn't been sure that arousal was what she was talking about, but she figured it was worth a shot.

So, since it was the most unpleasant topic she could think of, Hermione focused on thoughts about Voldemort, which wiped away all feelings of excitement rather quickly. When Severus returned a few minutes later, he paused just inside the door and stared at her, apparently unable to think of anything to say under the circumstances. She went to speak, noticing just then that she was chewing on her nails. She swept her hands behind her back, trying not to chew on her lip now.

He cleared his throat. "We will need aconite for the next step," he said flatly, stepping past her to the cauldron again.

Hermione forced herself to nod. "Right. Do you need me to get some from your lab, or do you have some on hand?"

"If you would," Severus replied, gesturing toward the door to his private labs.

She nodded and hurried into his private lab to gather the ingredient, feeling her breathing finally start to slow as she forced her mind back to business. With encounters like that, how much longer could they possibly wait?


	23. Seventh Year: Part Fifteen

**Disclaimer:** I think you all know by now that this isn't mine.

* * *

Hermione pulled off the leather apron and folded it up while Severus went about cleaning his supplies. The potion, now a milky red color, sat steaming on his desk over the unlit burner. The swirls had stopped, although there was the occasional bubble now, which apparently didn't indicate anything except that there were air pockets trapped in the pillowcase.

Ever since the incident, they both felt rather shy, or at least she did. He was just understandably quiet. The only time they'd spoken was to comment on the potion, or, in her case, to ask a question for confirmation. She was starting to feel uncomfortable with the constant silence—it wasn't comfortable like it'd been before with him. Now it was tense. It felt like a step backward.

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other, trying to come up with something to say. She almost leapt in the air when Severus pulled the apron from her grasp. He eyed her briefly and she offered a quick, anxious smile before he turned to put it away. She placed her hands on her hips, glancing around the room for inspiration, which struck when she caught sight of the cauldron again.

"Guess I'll need to buy a new pillowcase, huh?" she said as brightly as possible.

Her voice sounded so loud in the stillness of the room that she nearly flinched. Severus shut the drawer he'd put the apron into and turned about, considering her.

"I rather doubt you want it back," he replied smoothly, "considering that one of the ingredients to this particular potion is the brain of a rat."

Hermione shuddered and wrinkled her nose in revulsion. Out of all the ingredients in the world, why rat brains, and who decided that was a good idea? Severus was wearing his amused expression, eyes glittering and lips twitching. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, I think I'll settle for a regular, non-amygdala soaked pillowcase, thank you," she said disgustedly, shaking off the last of the shudder as she stepped toward the door.

"The potion should be ready for a final analysis by tomorrow morning," Severus informed her, his amusement fading with the onset of business. "We will know the identity of your intruder and take the appropriate measures to ensure that this does not happen again."

Hermione turned and folded her arms, frowning. "But if this person is being Imperiused, can't whoever is doing this simply find another student?" she inquired, awkwardness melting away at the prospect of a discussion.

He dipped his head. "Which is why I intend to recommend an alternate course of action to the Headmaster, as his first thought will most certainly be isolation and protection of the student."

She nodded in acknowledgement, but quickly lost herself in thought. She didn't like the idea of using whoever this poor person was as bait, but it seemed they didn't have much choice. If they guarded them nonstop, the true culprit would find another student to curse and then they'd have to start all over again. It would only escalate the problem.

And it wasn't as though the student could help them through other methods. They'd obviously been Obliviated as well—if the attacker hadn't done that, he was awfully thick—so they couldn't just come out and tell them who it was. If they hadn't been Obliviated, they were probably working with them, so that wouldn't help. And that was highly unlikely, since the Imperius Curse wouldn't be necessary if the person was working willingly with them. Hermione sighed. It appeared this was the only option.

She glanced up and found Severus watching her intently, apparently unaware that he was doing it, since he didn't react when she met his gaze. Heat spread through her in response, but anxiety didn't follow as it had last time. There was no way he was aware of it, for one thing, and it was much less intense than her latest spurt of desire. Granted, the last one was nearly as bad as when she'd kissed him months ago, but still. She let her hands fall to her sides and took a breath.

"Well, I suppose I should be off to…." She paused, eyeing him. "You know, if you're planning to stay again, why don't you just come up with me? I mean, it seems a bit ridiculous for me to go first and then for you to wait here until you think I'm asleep."

Severus only stared for several moments, although his expression had shifted into one of surprise. Or at least that's what she guessed it was, since his eyes were a bit wider than usual and he couldn't seem to think of anything to say. She waited him out, smiling once to make sure he knew she wasn't taking it back.

Why should she, anyway? So she'd said she'd pretend she didn't know anything about it—this would be just plain ridiculous. Walking her up to her rooms wouldn't be hurting anything, and there was no possible way it could be more awkward than what transpired a bit earlier.

He finally nodded, once. "Very well. Allow me a moment to close my rooms."

"Of course."

She smiled briefly at him and he seemed to gather himself before turning away, passing through the door to his private labs. He didn't return for some time, but when he did, it was through the other door. He closed it tight and nodded in her direction, gesturing toward the exit. She turned immediately and opened it up, finding herself unsurprised when he took the weight of it from behind her.

They walked in silence up to her rooms and it was more comfortable than the silence that had accompanied them in his office, at least for her. As always when she was around him, the potential for arousal was there, but she busied herself with thoughts of what would be done the next day, when they knew who this intruder was.

It was only when they were rounding the corner to her door that the silence was punctuated by a hearty laugh. Hermione's heart raced and she glanced at Severus, who jerked his head to assure her that she could go ahead. She grinned at him and trotted down the hall, nearly screeching in delight when she saw Flitwick and Hooch placing Loki back against the wall.

"Legs!" Loki hollered, bouncing on the spot.

Flitwick and Hooch glanced back and smiled at Hermione, who grinned and bounded over.

"Loki, I'm so glad you're all right!" she exclaimed, looking over the place where the rip had been. "You look…brand new!"

He grinned and turned in a circle. "Thanks. Midget and the Ref here did a pretty good job, didn't they?"

"Great job," she enthused.

"We were hoping to have him up before you returned," Flitwick confided. "But it took longer than expected to remove your other door."

"That's okay. This is great. Thank you both so much," Hermione said happily, smiling between them.

Hooch just nodded and kept her wand pointed between Loki's portrait and the wall, apparently too busy sealing to give much more of a reply than that. Flitwick patted Hermione's hand, however, and smiled up at her. Loki had started drinking a glass of wine again, probably intent on making up for lost time, but he stopped suddenly.

"Hey, Glove-Boy!" he yelled. "Get over here!"

Hermione glanced behind her and found an extremely annoyed-looking Severus on the approach. He folded his arms and pulled up next to Hermione, glowering darkly up at the portrait. Loki stared right back, unfazed, and folded his arms mockingly.

"Oh, hello, Severus," Flitwick said cheerfully.

Severus grunted at him.

"You owe me a favor, and I'm pullin' it," Loki informed him, nodding sharply.

"We had an agreement," Severus purred dangerously. "Which you have now violated."

"Oh, come on! She knew like the day after you did it," the god retorted, rolling his eyes. "What do you take her for, stupid?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably when she felt Severus grow tense next to her. Hooch pulled her wand away from the wall and nodded with a happy smirk. She gestured for Flitwick to try it out, and he shut the door. He pulled for it to open again, but Loki didn't budge. He grinned.

"Sweet. I've got all my stuff back," he commented happily, waggling his eyebrows at Hermione, who smiled.

"Again, thanks, Professor Flitwick. And you, too, Madam Hooch," she said emphatically. "This really means a lot."

"You're welcome, Miss Granger," Flitwick said politely, smiling.

"Yes, you're very welcome," Hooch agreed. "And this means that _I_ don't owe you anything right now, all right, Loki?" Hermione almost snorted, but muffled it under her hand.

"All right, all right. We're clear," Loki replied, rolling his eyes. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. Or do you wear knickers?"

Hooch huffed. "None of your business."

Loki grinned at her and Flitwick cleared his throat, drawing all eyes down to him.

"If you'd like, we can retrieve Professor Dumbledore and begin questioning now…" he told Hermione uncertainly.

Loki snorted. "That makes _me_ sound like the bad guy."

"Well, if the shoe fits," Hooch retorted.

"I don't wear shoes," he shot back, showing them his bare feet.

"An excellent suggestion, Filius," Severus interrupted, glowering at Loki. "The sooner we can find out who this criminal was, the better."

"It can't wait until tomorrow morning, when the potion is ready?" Hermione put in, feeling her cheeks go a little pink when they all looked at her. Severus' brow arched. "I just mean…he _just_ got put back in. Shouldn't he have a little time to relax before we start pumping him for information? Besides, the potion will be more accurate if Loki doesn't know exactly who they were. And I'm sure we're all tired. Professor Dumbledore may be in bed already, and if this student is being Imperiused every night, they may already be under the curse and we'll have no luck tracking them down." She took a deep breath as she lost the last of her air.

Severus looked the tiniest bit amused, but it was overshadowed by his scowl. Flitwick answered before any of the rest of them could, popping up with a little shrug.

"I suppose you have a point," he agreed. "Unless…you _do_ know exactly who this person was?"

Loki shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Never seen 'im before in my life."

"Then the potion will be more helpful, anyway, right?" Hermione asked, peering up at Severus hopefully.

He was still glaring, but at least it wasn't at her. Hooch eyed him impatiently, folding her arms as well.

"Indeed," he growled, sneering up at Loki, who took another drink.

"Then we'll see you tomorrow morning, Miss Granger," Flitwick squeaked, gesturing for Hooch to come with him. "Good night to all of you."

They paused when they saw that Severus wasn't coming, and he went to answer their questioning looks before Hermione could start stammering excuses for him.

"It's my patrol tonight," he snapped, narrowing his eyes at them.

"Ah, which means you'll be staking out Gryffindor's door," Hooch replied, shrugging. "Come on, Filius."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"Good night, sir, Madam Hooch," Hermione called as they disappeared down the hallway together.

"Nighty-night!" Loki added, hiccupping. When the three of them were alone, he grinned at them. "So…you never answered my question. Glove-Boy."

Severus glared harshly at the portrait. "No, I do not take Miss Granger as stupid, though I can't say the same for you. Now, what 'favor' do you want?"

"Duh! Protective charms!" Loki exclaimed. "I can't be getting ripped in half again, okay? It just isn't happening! What'll happen to my lady Legs if that arse comes back to have another go?"

"What a superb way to tip off the intruder," he retorted sarcastically.

"Well…won't this guy be expecting it?" the god replied, frowning. "I mean, person breaks into and vandalizes a room and doesn't expect extra security to be up the next time he comes around? Pretty stupid guy, if you ask me."

"The intelligence of the culprit is irrelevant in this matter," Severus snapped. "It is unclear how powerful he is, and until we know, we cannot assume that a mere protective charm will be sufficient. Besides, while helpful when Miss Granger is not in her rooms, it may prove useless if the intruder simply breaks it."

"You still owe me!" Loki barked, sticking his tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. "I will mention the possibility of a second portrait for you to enter to the Headmaster, so you are not so completely worthless the next time something like this happens."

The two men glared at each other and Hermione cleared her throat.

"If that's settled…." She turned to Loki. "Professor Snape is going to be staying in my quarters until this person is caught. If you could keep his presence under wraps for me, that would be much appreciated."

He bowed. "Your wish is my command."

She grinned. "Thank you."

Severus was staring at her in disbelief, as though he didn't know how she'd done that. She smiled up at him, but Loki interrupted.

"I was wondering why you two were together," he was saying, eyeing them suspiciously. "Whatcha been doin'?"

When she caught the waggling of his eyebrows, Hermione giggled and shook her head, trying to come up with a sufficient response. What would he appreciate the most?

"Oh, we were just having sex on his desk," she replied candidly, and she felt Severus' eyes land on her with amazing power. "But as much fun as it is rattling desk drawers, bondage is even more fun, and I forgot the cuffs in my room." She winked at Loki.

He was practically rolling on the ground laughing. Hermione was amazed by her own ability to completely ignore the fact that Severus was gaping at her, stunned.

"So, new password?" she prompted.

Loki grinned. "What'll it be?"

"Oh…how about…fetish?" she offered.

"You got it, Legs," he replied, winking. "Go on in."

"I'm so glad you're back," she told him, smiling. "Good night."

"Nighty-night!" he called as she passed through the portrait hole.

Crookshanks bounded onto the back of the couch for his evening pet and Hermione stroked him twice before turning about to find Severus shutting the door and still staring at her. His gaze had turned questioning, and she hurried to explain, somehow feeling less embarrassed about Loki's sexuality than her own.

"Oh, he likes it when I tell him humorous sex stories," she clarified, shrugging. "He thinks it makes everything sound more exciting. And the password is just because I'm afraid he won't let me use something more…mundane."

Severus slowly dipped his head, clearing his throat. "I see."

There was another silence in which Hermione scratched behind Crookshanks' ear and he purred, ecstatic that his mistress was home for the evening. Severus stood with his arms folded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other occasionally. Eventually, he took a breath.

"I assume you are heading straight to bed, given your earlier comment," he said flatly, looking a little bored, to tell the truth.

It took her a moment to realize that he was referring to her observation out in the hall about them all being tired.

"Oh, I'm going to take a bath fir—" she cut herself off there when his eyes shot to hers, and the silence grew steadily awkward once more. She cleared her throat. "I mean, yes, I'm going straight to bed. Good night."

Hermione smiled at him, picked up Crookshanks, and hurried up the stairs as quickly as she could while she could still feel Severus' gaze on her all the way up the stairs. When she disappeared into the bedroom, she set Crookshanks on the bed and groaned, shaking her head.

"What is wrong with me, Crooks?" she moaned. "That couldn't have been more awkward if I'd said, 'Hey, guess what? I'm going to be naked and wet upstairs! Tah-tah!'"

Crookshanks blinked at her and meowed. She sighed and stroked his head, muttering, "I know. You're just happy I'm here to give you your dinner."

* * *

The next morning, Hermione was disturbed from her typical Saturday morning routine of reading when Loki started shouting for her. She slammed the book shut and leapt out of the chair so quickly that Crookshanks sped out of her lap and under the coffee table. She apologized to him and hurried to the door, calling, "What is it? What's wrong?"

She pulled up short when she opened the door to find four professors waiting outside. Dumbledore smiled benignly at her when she only stared, a bit startled.

She shook herself out of it. "Uh…um, is something wrong?" Hermione blurted.

"Not at all, dear," McGonagall assured her.

"We simply thought you might like to be here to find out who raided your rooms," Dumbledore added, twinkling at her.

"Oh. Well, yes, of course. Thank you."

Hermione exited the room and shut the portrait firmly, glancing up at a grinning Loki. She shook her head and smiled wryly at him, then stepped to Professor McGonagall's side. Professor Sprout and Flitwick offered greeting smiles and she returned them, then nodded to Dumbledore.

"Now, Loki, if you could please tell us exactly what happened to you," he said politely.

"Well, I was just sitting around in my portrait, eating grapes," Loki explained wistfully. "Wishing I could play poker. Wishing I could get laid." Sprout made a choked noise. "And then, this student appears out of nowhere and tells me to let him into the room. Real Muggle machine, I'm telling you—he didn't blink or nothing. I told him no, so he pulls out a knife and that's the last thing I remember."

"What did he look like?" McGonagall asked impatiently.

"Tall, weedy kid," Loki replied, frowning in thought. "Light brown hair. Oh, and he was wearing Slytherin robes."

Hermione's stomach clenched. "That's Theodore Nott."

The professors all looked at her, but she didn't back down. That was the only Slytherin she knew of who looked like that.

"Let's not be too hasty in condemning him," Dumbledore said gently. "There are several Slytherins, you know."

"And it could've been someone masquerading as a student," Flitwick added.

"Loki knows the difference between an adult wizard and a student," Hermione protested.

"Polyjuice potion tricks everyone," Sprout pointed out.

"If he was using Polyjuice, why was he acting like he was Imperiused?" McGonagall retorted in the same even tone as Hermione.

She smiled up at her, feeling warmed by the support of her mentor. McGonagall smiled back briefly.

"Loki, what color were his eyes?" Hermione inquired intently.

"Uh…brown? Like light brown, I think," he replied, nodding sagely.

"That's definitely Nott," she said determinedly.

Dumbledore hesitated. "We shouldn't be too hasty…."

"How is it hasty when the portrait confirms what the potion has indicated?" Severus retorted from behind them all.

Hermione turned to find him coming from the stairs, sneering at the assembled teachers. He scowled at Dumbledore, who frowned as he turned to face him.

"Ah, Severus. You've performed the spell, then?" he asked calmly.

"Early this morning," Severus replied smoothly. "I've sent Mr. Filch to fetch the boy and bring him to your office."

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said sincerely, nodding. Loki cleared his throat—rather loudly. "And thank you, Loki. You've been a great help."

Loki grinned and shot a wink Hermione's way when Dumbledore turned back around. She smiled back, holding in a laugh, and turned back to her professors.

"Filius, Pomona, you may go to breakfast. I will send for you if need be," the Headmaster instructed. "Minerva, Severus, please come with me."

"And perhaps Miss Granger would like to come as well?" McGonagall suggested pointedly.

Dumbledore paused on his way to the stairs and considered Hermione for a moment, as though he hadn't thought of this before. Severus was glowering at Dumbledore, and Hermione wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want her to come or because he did. When McGonagall gave Dumbledore one of her fiercer 'professor' looks, he went a little pink under his full beard.

"Ah, you are right. Come along, Miss Granger," he said absently, as though it'd been his idea all along.

McGonagall smiled at Hermione and placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her along the corridor after Severus and Dumbledore.

* * *

When they arrived in Dumbledore's office, Filch was holding Nott down in one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, looking rather smug about it, too. Nott was glaring glumly at his feet, folding his arms in a pout. McGonagall steered Hermione to the side of the room and patted her once before joining Dumbledore and Severus at the desk.

"Thank you for retrieving Mr. Nott, Argus," Dumbledore said kindly. "You may return to your duties now."

Filch nodded hastily. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore."

He squeezed Nott's shoulder—and not in a very nice way, from the brief, twisted look of pain on the Slytherin's face—and left abruptly. Hermione folded her arms uncomfortably as she stood by the snoring portraits on the wall. She'd never been in Dumbledore's office without being one of the ones in the chair, and it was a bit odd seeing it from a teacher's perspective.

She felt Severus' attention and offered him a small smile. He didn't acknowledge it, at least not outwardly, and went back to glowering nastily at Nott, who still hadn't noticed her presence. Dumbledore had settled in his chair by now and plucked a lemon drop from the dish on his desk. He smiled at Nott.

"Would you like a lemon drop?" he asked benignly.

Nott frowned, looking confused. "No."

McGonagall cleared her throat and Severus intensified his glower simultaneously.

"No, thank you. Sir," Nott amended, rolling his eyes.

"Very well." Dumbledore popped it in his own mouth instead and tented his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. "You are not in trouble, Mr. Nott, so you may relax."

Nott scowled. "Then why am I here?" He glanced at Severus. "Sir."

"We'd simply like to ask you a few questions," Dumbledore replied, smiling mysteriously. "For instance, do you recall where you were on Friday morning a week ago?"

The Slytherin went a little white. "S-sure. I was in bed. I overslept."

"Are you quite certain?" the Headmaster pressed, though not unkindly.

Nott glanced at McGonagall and Severus, swallowing heavily. He did a double-take when he caught sight of Hermione and she straightened unconsciously, steeling herself for his reaction to her presence. His expression darkened and his eyes narrowed as he focused his confusion and panic onto her. He sneered.

"What's _she_ doing here?" he snapped.

Hermione folded her arms and waited for one of the professors to answer him, never breaking her cold staring contest with Nott.

"Miss Granger," Severus snarled, "is here because her room was broken into and vandalized a week ago."

Nott frowned up at Severus, who glared at him. "And you think _I_ did it?!" he exclaimed.

"You seem to share a certain amount of animosity with Miss Granger," McGonagall observed calmly.

"So? So does half of Slytherin House!" he barked, scowling.

"Half of Slytherin House has not attacked her in the middle of my classroom," Severus hissed.

Nott blanched and swallowed heavily, avoiding his professor's gaze.

"There was also a note left in her room that said, 'Die, Mudblood slut,'" McGonagall informed him. "Do you know anyone who would feel that way about Miss Granger?"

"What? No, look! I-I don't want you to die!" Nott exclaimed, nearly rising out of his chair as he turned to face Hermione. "I mean, sure, I don't like you, but I don't want anyone to die! I swear! That day in the class was just a little fun, that's all!"

"Sure, because that's the next step after pigtail-pulling, right? Knocking someone down with a powerful spell?" Hermione retorted, unable to hold back the edge in her voice. "Why do you hate me so much, anyway?"

"You don't know?" Nott stared at her when she shook her head. "You're the reason my dad is in Azkaban. If you hadn't stunned him during the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, he wouldn't have gotten caught!"

"What? That was—that wasn't even late during the battle! That was practically at the beginning!" she retorted sharply. "And…why am I defending myself for putting a Death Eater in Azkaban?"

"He's my dad! And he told me you did it!" Nott snapped back, then realized that Severus was literally fuming at him—in that dangerous way where his veins were starting to rise. "But I swear to Merlin, I don't want you to die! I just don't like you, okay?!"

"Mr. Nott, relax," Dumbledore said soothingly. "No one is accusing you of wanting to kill Miss Granger, or breaking into her rooms. Not purposely."

He frowned, even more confused than before, it seemed.

"Have you been experiencing blackouts recently?" McGonagall inquired.

Nott squirmed in his chair. "Maybe. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Mr. Nott, when Miss Granger alerted us to the condition of her room, we not only found the note, but we also found a blood sample on her pillowcase," Dumbledore informed him seriously. Apparently he'd given up on the slower tactic. "This was, presumably, supplied by her familiar, who escaped that day after attacking the intruder. When the blood sample was examined, it was discovered that the donator was under the Imperius Curse."

He paused a moment to let this settle in and Nott paled even further, swallowing hard. Hermione frowned sympathetically at him.

Dumbledore took a breath. "This potion is also easily combined with a spell to reveal the identity of the owner of the blood. Professor Snape completed it this morning, and we have discovered that it was you, Mr. Nott."

Nott dropped his head, grinding his teeth and gripping the arm of the chair so tightly his fists were white. McGonagall exchanged a glance with Severus, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. She sighed.

"Do you know of anyone who could've done this?" she asked gently. "Is there anyone else in your family with a strong grudge against Miss Granger?"

Nott shook his head. He looked sick.

"What about your friends? Have any of them expressed an interest in exacting revenge of some sort?" she prompted.

He shook his head again, not meeting her eyes. Hermione saw Severus start to grow impatient and, before she could think too much about it, drew his attention by shifting a step closer. She gave him a small, calm smile and he breathed out, relaxing the slightest bit, although his expression never changed.

"What about against someone close to Miss Granger?" McGonagall continued, sighing. "Perhaps Mr. Potter?"

Nott shook his head and slowly pried his mouth open, choking out, "I don't know. I don't know anybody who hates her enough to…to do that to both of us."

McGonagall rose up and exchanged a glance with Dumbledore, who frowned concernedly. Nott dragged his gaze up to Hermione, who frowned sadly at him. She couldn't imagine how awful he must feel at the thought that someone he knew had probably done this to him.

"I'm really sorry I did that," he said quietly. "I meant it. I don't want anyone to die."

She nodded. "It's okay. It wasn't your fault."

Nott returned the nod and resettled in his chair, heaving a huge sigh. Dumbledore leaned forward, taking the lead again apparently.

"Would you be willing to help us catch whoever has done this?" he asked, in one of the kindest voices Hermione had ever heard from his.

Nott nodded immediately. "Yeah. Whatever it takes. I-I'll be bait, if you want. Whatever."

Severus exchanged a glance with Dumbledore, who sighed.

"For the time being, we would simply like you to tell us what happened right before the first time you experienced a blackout like this," he said, leaning back again.

"Well…I woke up early Friday morning and I went to the Quidditch pitch to get in a little practice," Nott said slowly, rubbing his forehead as he tried to remember. "And then…when I was coming back, I…went by the lake and…and…." He sighed and frowned apologetically. "That's all I've got. I remember walking past the lake and then the next thing I knew, I was waking up in bed with a bleeding arm."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" McGonagall asked sternly, though Hermione knew it was more out of concern than actual disappointment.

"I was afraid everyone would think I was crazy," he admitted quietly, then spoke up. "All the times after that it was in the evening, but I was always walking toward the lake, or past it. And then I'd wake up in bed."

"Then there has to be something before your blackouts," Severus said sharply, scowling. "A hint from a fellow student. Someone you met. Perhaps—"

"Well, I did meet this bloke in Hogsmeade on the Saturday before that Friday," Nott said thoughtfully. "I don't really remember much of it, but he didn't seem to think too highly of Granger. He also had never met her, though."

"Why don't you remember 'much of it'?" Severus inquired harshly.

"Well…I sort of got…pissed." Nott went a little pink. "We got into a drinking contest."

"What did this man look like?" he persisted, eyes narrowing with concentration.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Kind of big. He had a beard and moustache. What does it matter? He didn't even know her."

"And I'm sure the man who wished to seek revenge on either her or someone close to her was simply dying to inform you of his hatred," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Hermione covered her mouth to keep from laughing, which both Dumbledore and McGonagall noticed. Dumbledore merely twinkled at her, but McGonagall dared to smile before turning seriously back to the boy. Severus arched a brow at Nott, who swallowed his pride and said, "Right."

"Did this wizard seem to be searching for some sort of information?" McGonagall asked, although in a much nicer tone than Severus. "For instance, did he begin the drinking contest right after you said something that perhaps…revealed something about Miss Granger?"

Nott squinted, thinking hard while the rest of them waited on tenterhooks. Hermione glanced at Severus again, and he clenched his jaw before looking back at Nott. The Slytherin sighed, frustrated.

"I don't remember," he moaned.

"That's all right," Dumbledore assured him. "I believe we've all had enough for one day, anyway. We will be keeping a guard on you, Mr. Nott, for both Miss Granger's and your safety. Unless you have anything else you feel we need to know, you are free to go."

Nott seriously thought about that, frowning deeply as he tried to dig up anything else that could be important. Eventually, he sighed and shook his head. Dumbledore smiled benignly and gestured that he could go, yet again.

"Thank you, sir," Nott said quietly.

He stood and nodded at Hermione, who returned it. When he left, the teachers relaxed visibly and exchanged frowns. Severus folded his arms again and McGonagall lowered herself into the chair across from Dumbledore. Hermione stood uncomfortably by Fawkes as they began their discussion, listening intently with the phoenix.

"We should have Pomona keep an eye on the greenhouses," McGonagall suggested heavily. "And perhaps keep someone out there with her at all times."

"I agree," Dumbledore said, nodding. "The question is, who can we spare to keep an eye on Pomona and Mr. Nott?"

"Well, Hagrid can be with Pomona when he's not teaching," she said thoughtfully. "And perhaps Aurora wouldn't mind covering Mr. Nott, since most of her classes are at night."

"Rolanda might be able to cover the greenhouses when Hagrid and Pomona can't be there," he added, nodding to himself.

"If we have not found this person yet, it's unlikely that extra patrols will do anything to better our chances," Severus pointed out. "Particularly if this person does, in fact, have an Invisibility Cloak and is wise enough to use a Silencing Charm."

"We have to try, Severus," McGonagall replied, frowning back at him. "Pomona is skilled with her plants—there's no doubt about that—but a fellow Herbologist with an Invisibility Cloak against her makes for poor odds. And poor Mr. Nott's chances are even worse."

"Nott is merely a tool," Severus said dismissively. "As long as he plays by the rules, he will not be harmed."

"Except by Miss Granger's cat," Dumbledore commented, nodding to himself.

Hermione fought a smile as McGonagall and Severus rolled their eyes.

"Well, Minerva, if you would see to asking Hagrid and Rolanda to tend to that business," Dumbledore said at length, "I will ask Aurora about it. And Severus, if you could see that Hagrid and Argus tighten security around the gates…."

Severus dipped his head and McGonagall issued a quick, "Of course."

"Miss Granger, you are making sure to put wards in place for your quarters?" Dumbledore asked, twinkling at her.

"Oh, I put those in place when I first moved in and I check to see that they're up every month," she assured him hastily. "Of course, they'd been broken when Loki was ripped, but I've put new ones in place since then."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very good. Then, I believe we are all free to go. Meeting adjourned."

* * *

"Hermione, why weren't you at breakfast?" was the first thing Hermione heard upon entering the room for the group used for study sessions. It was quickly followed by, "We were so worried about you!" She waved off their concerns as she sat on the couch next to Harry and leaned against him, as Luna was doing on his other side.

"Loki wouldn't tell us where you were," Neville informed her, frowning. "Why didn't you tell us he was back up?"

Hermione sighed. "Because he wasn't back up until last night. And I wasn't at breakfast because…a lot happened before and during breakfast."

Harry stroked her hair. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Just tired."

"Well…are you up for storytelling?" Ginny asked, eliciting hopeful looks from the rest of them as well.

"Oh, sure. Why not?" She heaved another sigh. "All right, so I'll start with the fact that Severus has feelings for me."

They all looked up from their books and stared at her. Draco and Ginny exchanged a glance, as did Ron and Neville. At last, Draco broke the silence, taking a breath and looking back down at his book.

"Duh," Draco said, while Ron rolled his eyes and Harry muttered, "I told you…." The rest of them turned back to their books again and Hermione rolled her eyes. Typical.

"So did he confess? Or did you just have an epiphany?" Ginny asked.

"He didn't confess in words, no," Hermione replied, smiling a little. "And things have been a bit awkward since I found out, so I haven't exactly asked him to confirm. Although, I don't really need him to." She glanced at Ron, loathe to go on if he was going to flip out.

The rest of them all looked at him simultaneously and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, I'm cool with it. Just as long as you don't start gushing too much," he assured her, bobbing his head.

She smiled. "Thanks. Well, basically, last night was just so awkward. I helped him with the potion that helped identify who the person who broke into my rooms was, and we found out that they were actually Imperiused."

"Ouch," Draco commented.

"And he walked me back to my room and Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch were putting up Loki, and I told them we should wait until the morning to ask him anything about the attacker, especially since the potion would be done in the morning. Plus, I was tired," she added, shrugging.

"Understandable," Luna observed.

Hermione smiled across Harry's chest at her. "But anyway…he asked me if I was going straight to bed. And I swear, there is no shutting off my mouth."

"What'd you say?" Ginny asked apprehensively.

"I said that I was going to take a bath," she groaned. "I mean, I may as well have said, 'You wanna join me?' and winked at him."

Ginny patted her leg and Harry rubbed her arm.

"It could've been worse," Draco assured her. "You could've told him you were going to be waiting in the tub with a bowl of cherries and he'd better bring the whipped cream."

Hermione stared at him. "I would never say that."

"Unless you were poisoned, from what I hear," he replied, smirking.

She narrowed her eyes. "Whoever told you about that is going to die a slow, painful death."

He grinned, but she saw Ron shifting uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes.

"Ron! I can't believe you told him about when I was poisoned!" she exclaimed.

"What? I didn't tell him you told people to meet you with the whipped cream!" he squeaked.

"Well, that's a relief, since she didn't," Harry said, nodding.

"Don't crush my dreams, Potter," Draco retorted. Ginny smacked his arm and he kissed her, then said, "You know I only want _you_ to say that to me."

She smiled, satisfied, and turned back to Hermione. "So, I think there was a point we're missing. Like…who trashed your rooms?"

"Oh, right. Well, after that awkwardness, I went to sleep—" she didn't think Severus would appreciate it if she told her friends about his command of her couch "—and this morning, Dumbledore was there with Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall, and Loki gave us the description of the person. I thought it was Theodore Nott, and Severus came and confirmed that that's what the potion said."

"That bastard! I knew he was no good!" Harry snapped, relaxing a bit when Luna rubbed his chest.

Hermione sighed. "He was Imperiused, remember? And he doesn't even remember doing it. So Dumbledore is increasing security all over the place, and we think that that man who was murdered in Stranraer is connected somehow. We meaning me and Severus."

"How is that connected?" Neville asked, confused.

"Well, Hogwarts is a secure building and an Invisibility Cloak was stolen," she replied, shrugging. "And from the sounds of it, Nott is being Imperiused outside, around the lake, so this person is probably hanging around the greenhouses, and we guessed that the murderer was a Herbologist."

"I still want to know who's trying to kill you and why," Ron said, frowning.

"Well, I think we all do," Harry replied. "It's kind of the big question of the day."

"But the main thing is that you stay safe," Ginny said firmly.

"I know. Severus has been very adamant about that," Hermione assured her, smiling wryly.

Draco chuckled. "Ah, so smitten."

"So…let me get this straight," Ron said, thinking hard. "You love him and he knows. And he has feelings for you and you know and he knows you know?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"So…why aren't you doing the couple thing now?" he inquired uncertainly.

Hermione sighed. "I have…no idea. Oh, and listen, Ron, before I forget…you're not going to tell Lavender anything about me and Severus, are you? It's not that I don't trust her. I mean, I'd trust her with my life. Just not with my secrets."

"Hermione, do you think Lavender and I are _talking_ when we're together?"

"That's too much information," Ginny informed him seriously.

"So you seriously have no clue why you two aren't together now?" Neville asked, ignoring the other two.

She shrugged. "Other than that he wants to wait until the end of the year…I'm really trying not to think about it. It's hard enough being alone with him in his teeny, tiny office where there is only room for one and a half people behind his desk without wondering why you're not allowed to act on your emotions."

They all nodded their understanding and she sighed.

"So, what's going on with you guys today?"

* * *

Severus sighed heavily as he readjusted his position, trying to get comfortable on Hermione's couch. It wasn't that the cushions weren't supportive enough—it was just that he couldn't sleep again. He'd dozed off once earlier on, but Crookshanks made sure to wake him up by using his stomach to catapult himself onto the back of the couch, where he proceeded to sit and clean himself for several minutes.

Severus glared at the creature, who smiled at him the way cats did and then leapt to the floor. Just when he thought the cat would be quiet and leave him alone, however, he found one of his toys, which happened to have a bell on the end of it. Severus had been awake ever since, even though the Kneazle had gone back upstairs by now.

Severus was currently convincing himself that it was a horrible idea to do the same. First of all, startling a tired Hermione had proved to be a bad idea once before. Second, was he insane? It was as though he _wanted_ to ruin her reputation and spoil her chances for a happy future. In a sense, of course, he kind of did, but only if those weren't the consequences of the actions that would lead to them.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. The silence in Hermione's quarters was soothing, at first. Now it was irritating. He could hear his own thoughts far too easily, and he was exhausted, which meant that he was more open to his own suggestions.

His train of thought was crudely interrupted when a scream suddenly cut through the silence. He threw the covers aside and bolted up the stairs, taking them three at a time, and burst into Hermione's bedroom, wand at the ready. He did a once-over of the room, but there was nothing amiss, besides the fact that Hermione was screaming. Crookshanks, the coward, was watching her from the floor with wide eyes, his fur standing on end.

Severus put his wand away and hurried over to her bedside, taking her shoulders gently and trying to rock her awake. His heart was still racing, so he had to work to remain slow and calm in his movements. Hermione whimpered in her sleep and cried out again.

"Hermione, wake up," he urged, lifting her from her pillow.

Her body jerked and she struggled to get away from him, but he held her in place.

"Relax, it was only a nightmare," he soothed, watching as she looked around in a panic for a phantom enemy. "You're safe."

Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, obviously startled to see him there. She took a few heavy breaths, clearly trying to regain her bearings, but the haunted look didn't leave her eyes. Without a second thought, Severus sat the rest of the way on the edge of her bed and pulled her against his chest, rubbing her back comfortingly. She sighed, holding onto his shoulder loosely and burrowing into his neck.

Severus allowed her a few moments, waiting until he felt her muscles loosen under his hands to speak.

"Are you all right?" he asked, keeping his voice low, so as not to startle her.

He felt her nod against his chest. She squeezed the shoulder she was holding and gradually lifted herself up, taking a deep breath as she pulled her hair behind her ears.

"I'm okay now," Hermione said softly, keeping her eyes down. "Just needed a minute…. This is what always happens. I'll be okay." She met his eyes and smiled bravely.

"Always?" he inquired, arching a brow.

She nodded. "This has happened before."

"Not as long as I've been here," Severus pointed out, scowling. When else had this happened to her?

"No," she agreed, shrugging.

"Why haven't you taken a Dreamless Sleep Draught?" he asked, covering his concern with sharpness.

It didn't seem to faze her, for she just shook her head and sighed.

"It only happens…once in a blue moon," she explained, frowning. "And usually only when bad things start happening to Harry. After…after You-Know-Who was defeated, I just assumed it would never happen again." She sighed. "But I guess…."

Hermione fiddled with a loose thread on one of her blankets, which he now noted there were a lot of. Her creature leapt up onto the bed and placed his fore legs in Hermione's lap, purring and smiling smugly at Severus when she absently began petting him. Severus rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Hermione, whose gaze now rested somewhere around the middle of his chest.

Before…things could start happening, Severus cleared his throat, drawing her eyes back up to his.

"What happened?" he inquired. When she furrowed her brow, he added, "In your nightmare."

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I-I was running down a hallway and…someone was chasing me. Or-or I was chasing someone. I don't really know, but I was scared and I couldn't find my wand. And…someone I loved was in trouble, I think…." She frowned deeply. "I can't really remember."

He thought to reach out and comfort her, but stood instead. Hermione watched him, disappointment showing in her eyes. He tried to ignore it as he spoke.

"I'll return in a moment," he assured her, then turned and exited the room.

Severus took a deep breath when he shut the door behind him, descending the stairs at a steady pace. The adrenaline rush had finally died out, but he didn't like the idea of Hermione having nightmares. She didn't need that kind of stress added to this situation. There was just another thing to blame that inept arse for.

He sneered to himself as he poured Hermione some tea, stirring it and casting a warming charm as he did so. If only the bastard hadn't gotten an Invisibility Cloak. As far as Severus was concerned, this was a cowardly, cheating method. No one was evenly matched with someone wearing an Invisibility Cloak—even wearing one yourself wouldn't give you a leg up. The only advantage would be the fact that they couldn't see you, either.

Severus put in Hermione's favored drop of honey and stirred it in before ascending the stairs again. He knocked this time and awaited her response.

"Come in," she said, almost cheerfully.

When he entered, Hermione looked almost amused, which he ignored for the time being. He shut the door behind him and settled on the edge of the bed, handing her tea to her. She thanked him sincerely and took a sip, nodding once she'd had a taste.

"It's good," she assured him, smiling that affectionate smile. "Thank you."

Severus dipped his head, not trusting his voice. While he was gone, she'd moved further back, toward her headboard, and propped a pillow up behind her. Her many blankets were over her crossed legs, and Crookshanks was, again, curled up in her lap. Severus tried not to let his eyes wander to her body and the bare arms he'd been holding before, but in this tired state, he was unable to deny himself the pleasure.

She was in another silk nightgown, but this one was trimmed with lace and it was cream-colored, unlike the last two—both of which were shades of light yellow. This one, at least, wasn't cut as low as the last one, or at least it didn't seem as low, because of the lace. It still hugged her body with pants-tightening snugness and left her arms bare.

When his gaze began to wander to her breasts, he jerked his attention back to her face. Any of that would lead to things that he was not supposed to be doing. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he thought Hermione's cheeks were a bit pink. She was smiling at him, in either case, and he cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. Only to find that Crookshanks was glaring at him. Not just staring, not smiling smugly—_glaring_.

Severus arched a brow at the creature, who may as well have been shaking his head disapprovingly. When the Kneazle didn't look away, he shook his head and decided it wasn't worth trying to figure out what the orange thing was angry about.

Hermione sighed. "Thank you," she said again, smiling adoringly at him.

He swallowed and reached for her empty cup. "You're welcome."

She handed it over and their fingers brushed together, once again putting Severus on alert. He forced himself to stand and cleared his suddenly tight throat.

"Good night," he said at length.

Hermione nodded. "Good night."

Then, with great self-control and discipline, Severus forced himself to turn around and leave Hermione and her cat be. He left the door partially open, as she always did for that blasted creature, and descended the stairs again, wondering why whatever deity was out there was determined to test his resolve each and every day.


	24. Seventh Year: Part Sixteen

**Disclaimer:** Roses are red, violets are blue, these peeps ain't mine, so please don't sue.

**A/N:** I'm sorry this chapter is shorter, but the stopping point was too good to pass up.

* * *

After a lazy Sunday with her friends (part of which was spent perusing the Marauder's Map in vain with Harry), Hermione woke on Monday feeling energized and ready for a long day of Transfiguration. Of course, it helped that she hadn't had another nightmare, so she hadn't lost any sleep. As wonderful as it had been to wake up to Severus and be held in his arms, she didn't want to have another nightmare. Besides, it would be all the better to wake up to him when she wasn't scared out of her wits.

She skipped down the last two steps and strode toward the Great Hall, and someone emerged before she got there. She recognized Asher coming out, smiling to himself as usual—but he looked more puzzled than anything. She smiled and waved when he looked up. His eyes widened, but he waved back and waited for her, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Good morning," Hermione said genially.

"Morning," he replied, clearing his throat. "Um…how are you? H-how's it going?"

She shrugged. "Oh, all right. Much better now that Crookshanks is home."

He looked surprised. "Your cat? Why wasn't he at home?"

"Y-you didn't hear?" she prompted, a little surprised herself.

Asher shook his head.

"Oh. Well, Crookshanks escaped from my room a little more than a week ago, and he had to stay in the hospital wing for a while. Ron accidentally gave him chocolate," she explained, sighing. "He got out because someone broke into my rooms."

His eyes went even wider and his smile actually faded a tad.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh, yes. I wasn't there when it happened," she clarified, smiling. "That's how Crooks got out, actually. We're trying to figure out who's behind it, since we think it was connected to a murder in Stranraer."

"Oh." Asher blinked, scratching his head. "Well, I hope everything turns out all right."

"Thanks. I'm a little surprised you haven't heard all this. The Hogwarts Rumor Mill isn't known for its silence." She winked and his smile widened just the tiniest bit.

"Uh…my friends try to…protect me, or whatever you want to call it, from news about you," he said awkwardly.

Hermione nodded slowly. "Oh."

"I have to go…d-do a thing," he told her, nodding and smiling a little wider. "Jessica is apparently having an issue with her Pygmy Puff. Personally, I think it's actually just a giant dust ball that has come to life."

She chuckled. "Well, have fun."

Asher smiled and nodded, going to bounce past her. She went for the door to the Great Hall, but he called out her name and she turned about, smiling.

"Yes?" she prompted, and he looked a little pink again.

"I-if it's true," he stammered, rocking on his heels, "an-and you're happy? Then I'm happy for you."

Hermione stared. What on earth was he talking about? He went even redder, so she shook herself out of it.

"Thanks," she replied, trying to keep the confusion out of her voice.

He nodded and then sped away with his usual bounciness. Hermione frowned, shaking her head. _What was that all about?_ she wondered. After a moment, she shrugged and headed through the doors, walking down the Gryffindor table, where Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Neville were all scowling and folding their arms as a large group next to them chattered excitedly. She noted with disappointment that Severus wasn't at the High Table, but she brushed it off and kept moving.

"Hey, what's going—" she started when she arrived at her spot next to Ginny.

"There she is!" Lavender screeched. "Hermione!"

Dozens of eyes turned to her and Hermione froze, glancing at her friends uncertainly. They still looked rather put out and all turned to glare at Lavender, who came over and plopped next to Ron, wrapping her arms around him.

"Yes?" Hermione prompted, glancing hesitantly at her fellow Gryffindors.

"Is it true you're shagging Snape to help Harry's grades?" Lavender asked, bouncing in her seat.

A knot wound Hermione's stomach up so tight she nearly vomited right then and there. She looked at her friends.

"We tried to tell them it wasn't true," Harry told her quietly.

"Sadly, they only have ears for scandalous things," Ginny added sourly. "And you _not_ shagging Snape isn't scandalous."

"Lavender…" Hermione said slowly, keeping her voice even. "Where did you hear this?"

"So it's true!" Jill, a girl from Ginny's year, squeaked excitedly.

"No, it's not true," she snapped so sharply that the entire group went completely silent. "For one thing, Harry is the best Defense student at Hogwarts. He doesn't need the help. Where did you hear it, Lavender?"

"Well, Parvati heard it from Seamus, who heard it from Dennis, who heard it from Laura, who heard it from Kevin, who heard it from Stewart, who heard it from—"

"I don't need the actual list," Hermione cut in irritably. "I just want to know the source."

"Oh!" Lavender giggled. "Well, nobody knows! We think it might have started in Slytherin."

"Big surprise there," Ron muttered.

"But anyway, the Slytherins? Their version is that you're shagging Snape because you're actually a prostitute," Lavender informed her, nodding sagely.

Hermione gaped at her, but apparently her so-called friends weren't quite as perceptive as one would hope.

"The Ravenclaws think you're sleeping with all your professors, and that's how you get such good grades," Parvati piped up. "And now that's how you're doing all three apprenticeships, but McGonagall isn't a lesbian, so you're sleeping with Snape for her."

"The Hufflepuffs have two versions: one is that Snape took advantage of you," Dean said reassuringly. "And the other is that you're like some kind of couple."

So _that's_ what Asher was talking about. She sighed.

"And…you guys?" Hermione asked at last, folding her arms.

"We just don't know what to think!" Lavender exclaimed. "We Gryffindors are all confused!"

"Oh, well, thank you for your abundant amounts of faith and confidence in me," she retorted sardonically as she sank down into the spot next to Ginny, who rubbed her arm. "But, before you go on, let me get this straight. The Slytherins think I'm a Sickle-an-hour whore, the Ravenclaws think I'm a stupid whore, and the Hufflepuffs think that Professor Snape is a scumbag?"

"Basically!" Parvati said cheerfully.

Hermione sighed and glanced around at her friends. Harry was looking at them disgustedly, ready to commit homicide, it looked like. Neville was sitting there with his hands in his lap, apparently unable to eat with this sort of conversation going on around him. Ron and Ginny were so angry their faces matched their hair.

"All right," Hermione said at length, clearing her throat. "Let's have it, then. What's the rationale for this rumor?"

"Well…you were seen going into his office!" Seamus put in, and the rest of them chattered for a moment until Hermione cleared her throat.

"As you all well know, because I've told you, Professor Snape and I have private practice sessions for wandless magic," Hermione informed them, as calmly as she could while she wanted to hex them. "Just as last year, we had private lessons for Occlumency."

"Oh, right!" Lavender laughed. "I forgot you told me about that."

"At the end of last year, there were a bunch of rumors that you were in love with him!" Parvati reminded her, and the group began chattering again.

"The end of last year?" Hermione scoffed. "You should, perhaps, update your gossip book, Parvati."

The group burst into laughter and Parvati blushed fiercely.

"What about that time during DADA that Nott attacked you and Snape defended you and nearly killed Nott?!" Dean asked excitedly.

There were several gasps.

"Dean, you were _there_ and _that's_ what you think happened?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nott did attack me, but only with a Reducto. Professor Snape helped me up, since that is his duty as a professor—helping students and whatnot—and I deducted points from Nott. End of story."

"You can deduct points from people?" Lavender asked, as though this was the coolest thing she'd ever heard.

Since telling the truth would only spur the rumors, Hermione sighed and said, "Yes."

They all exploded in conversation and one of the fifth years ran from the table over to the Hufflepuff table, apparently to spread the news. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Is there anything else you'd like to put to me to prove that I'm shagging Professor Snape?" she prompted. "Are any of you even considering believing any of the other House's rumors? Because I can tell you right now that Professor Snape would never take advantage of a student—or _anyone_. He's far too respectable for that. I can also tell you that, not only have I never slept with a professor, but I've never slept with anyone. Do you see me—"

There was another collective gasp.

"You're a _virgin_?" Lavender squeaked.

Hermione stared. "Yes. Why is this such a shock?" she asked her four silent friends.

They all shrugged, but Lavender waved her arms.

"No, this is good for you!" she told her conspiratorially. "You are the oldest of us and you're a virgin. That's even more scandalous than you sleeping with a professor!"

"…What?"

Lavender just turned to whisper to the person next to her, and the rumor started spreading with the greatest of ease. Hermione let her forehead fall into her hand and sighed. Ginny rubbed her back soothingly and when Lavender turned back to them, looking pleased with herself, Hermione picked up her fork.

"Well…shall we eat?" she asked. "The morning is wasting away."

* * *

Severus swung back a vial of Migraine Solution as he exited his private quarters, warding them behind him. His stomach was informing him that he'd missed breakfast, but he didn't care much. Sleeping in a room without an insufferable cat for a couple of hours had been just the rest he'd needed. And even if it meant he wouldn't get to eat breakfast, or that he wouldn't be quite as prepared for his first class, it was well worth it.

Normally he would glance through his letters and head off to the classroom, but he had a potion to check up on in his private lab. He closed the door tight behind him and pulled up short when he turned about, backing up a step and pulling out his wand. The thing he'd bumped into swung violently from its brush with his body and he snatched it from midair to examine it closer.

His stomach clenched when he saw that it was the ballerina from Hermione's music box. It was hanging from the rafters by a thin black string, which was wrapped snugly around the neck of the ballerina. Severus let the ballerina rest in the palm of his hand for a moment, heart suddenly pounding in his ears, fueling the protective rage he felt quickly rising.

In a reckless moment, Severus yanked the ballerina to break it from the string. But rather than a quick snap, the sound of glass sliding on wood came from above and a jar tumbled over the side of the rafter, crashing on the floor with a resounding shatter.

The little black creatures were free, and they immediately spread about to cause chaos. Severus blasted one away from his foot as the squirming infestus nocens crawled toward him with amazing rapidity. He blasted another and tried to stomp the creatures into the floor, but they were too quick. His skin itched as the demonic things crawled up his legs and he felt a sharp sting in the back of his neck.

He grunted in pain and reached back to blast it off, but there was already another taking a chunk out of his hand. He banished it with a wave of his wand and went to send out a stunning charm, but another bit into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. He ground his teeth hard and stuffed Hermione's ballerina in his pocket, peeling the demon off of his other hand and flicking it across the room.

The vein was already bleeding horribly and the creatures were biting him everywhere now. He shifted his wand to the other hand and used it to start beating them off of him. More flocked to his bleeding hand and he scraped them off, groaning in pain when another bit him in the back.

"Severus!" someone called from the doorway, sounding stunned. "_Stupefiplures_!"

There was a red flash throughout the room and the infestus nocens' bodies went stiff, falling off of him and hitting the floor hard. Severus sneered at the creatures and pushed one off of his shoulder with the end of his wand. A glance ascertained that his rescuer was Minerva, who limped further into the room and waved her wand again, transfiguring the infestus nocens into marbles.

Severus nodded in her direction with a scowl and held his bleeding hand close to his side.

"Severus, what happened?" Minerva asked concernedly, glancing at the broken glass as she limped inside. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It appears our mysterious intruder has decided to leave a stronger message." He gestured with his wounded hand.

Minerva frowned deeply. "Come, I'll take you to the hospital wing."

"I can take care of it," he barked, back muscles twinging in pain when he attempted to straighten.

"I'm sure you can," she retorted sardonically. "But Poppy can do it better. Come on."

She took his arm in hers and guided—or dragged, more like—him out of the room, intent on the hospital wing.

* * *

"Oh, Severus!" Poppy exclaimed immediately upon their entrance. "Bring him here," she added, straightening the sheets on a bed.

"This is completely unncess—" Severus protested, but Minerva elbowed him in the stomach and yanked him over to the bed, forcing him to sit. If he hadn't been weak from blood loss, he'd have hexed her arms off.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear," Poppy muttered as she fussed over him, examining every injury in extreme detail.

Her hand went to his back and pulled down his collar to see his neck, at which point he shoved her hand away and glowered at her.

"I believe that's quite enough," he snapped. "Now either heal it or let me be, woman."

"Severus," Minerva reprimanded sharply.

"I'm afraid you'll be here a while," Poppy informed him calmly as she examined his hand.

"What?" he hissed, yanking his hand from her grasp.

"That wound, at least, will need more time to heal than a minute or two," she replied, unfazed. "And, from the looks of it, you'll need a Blood-Replenishing Potion. What is the cause of your injuries?"

"Infestus nocens," Severus snarled. "How longer do you intend to imprison me here?"

"A day or two, at most," she said, shrugging as she pulled out her wand.

Minerva was smirking. He glared at her.

"A day or _two_?" he echoed, rising up from the bed. "And who, may I ask, do you think will be teaching my classes?"

"I'm certain Professor Dumbledore can find a temporary replacement," Poppy said, pushing down on his shoulder. "Either that or your classes will have to be cancelled."

"_Cancelled_?!" he barked.

"I'll see to it that Albus knows of your predicament," Minerva assured him, still smirking at him.

He sneered at the vile woman, who limped away.

"Minerva, what's happened to _you_?" Poppy exclaimed suddenly.

"One of the creatures bit my ankle," she replied with a graceful shrug.

"Then you sit here, too! I can't have you walking around on a wounded leg!" she said sternly, pointing to the bed next to Severus'.

"Poppy, I—"

"Sit!"

Minerva frowned at Severus, who folded his arms with a haughty smirk. She glared back at him and sat, looking as though she wanted to pout. Severus merely smirked smugly, cooperating with Poppy's demands, for the time being, as she'd at least provided _some_ entertainment. It would be rude not to show his appreciation.

* * *

Hermione had a stressful morning. After breakfast's chaotic beginning, things settled down, although she still occasionally caught people staring or whispering when she passed. When she went to the Transfiguration classroom, she was startled to find no trace of McGonagall. She let the students in as usual, hoping that McGonagall would eventually show up.

But when she had no such luck, she eventually instructed them to work on their homework, which she helped them with to the best of her abilities. She stopped Harry and Ron to ask if they knew anything, but they were just as perplexed as she was. Hermione thought to send a note to Dumbledore to ask if something happened, but during the second class of the day, McGonagall finally came back.

Hermione would've asked what happened, but the Transfiguration Mistress' lips were so pinched that she thought it best to let it go. At least for the time being, anyway. Instead, she told her what she'd done with the advanced class, and McGonagall thanked her shortly before going back to teaching. Hermione had to put out several fires during the course of the class—both literally and figuratively—as McGonagall wasn't in the most patient mood.

She was relieved that it was time for lunch. She could finally relax and—

"Hermione! Did you hear?!" someone shouted.

She sighed and called back, "Hear what?"

There was an outbreak of giggles, but Hermione didn't pay any mind. Ginny and Harry were striding down the aisle toward her rapidly, looking extremely concerned. She frowned, freezing in place. She'd seen that look on their faces before, and it never led to good things. Her stomach started to tense, and it roiled when Ginny took her hands gently.

"What is it?" Hermione demanded, glancing between them.

"Snape is in the hospital wing," Ginny said gently.

Hermione went still. Ginny exchanged a glance with Harry, who patted Hermione on the back concernedly.

"I-isn't that a relief for the rest of us?" Harry said, loud enough for the rest of the Gryffindors to hear. "No Defense class!"

There were a few claps and the students began chattering again. Hermione had to tell herself to breathe in and out. Severus was in the hospital wing? Why? When did this happen? What was going on? Was he all right? _Oh, please, _please_ let him be all right_, she moaned inwardly. Her stomach was churning so badly she thought she might actually throw up this time.

Ginny was rubbing her hands soothingly and Harry was blocking her from the others' view, protecting her from their speculation. Hermione slowly gathered herself, realizing she'd been silent far too long. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, that is a relief," she said, and her voice sounded so distant she wondered if someone else said it. "What happened?"

Ginny wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her into the seat across from Ron and Neville, who were watching her with worried eyes, while Harry explained.

"We just heard after Transfiguration, and we wanted to tell you the good news, but we figured you'd be busy," he said meaningfully. "Apparently one of his live potions ingredients attacked him and McGonagall, and that's why she wasn't in our class."

"He should be back to teaching in a couple days, according to Lavender," Ron assured her, adding a roll of his eyes for the others' benefit.

Seamus grinned meanly. "Too bad McGonagall didn't let the old git get eaten alive. We'd all be free at last!"

The others laughed and Hermione looked down at her plate, while Harry and Ginny rubbed her back surreptitiously. She really didn't want to eat now.

* * *

On the other side of the castle, Severus was rolling his eyes as he lay on a hospital bed.

"Are you sure you're all right, Severus?" Dumbledore asked concernedly.

"For the last time, I am fine," he bit out irritably. "I would be better if your psychotic nursemaid would let me go."

"That hand is still bleeding," Minerva pointed out stiffly. "You need to give it time to heal."

He grumbled at her.

"I realize you don't like to miss classes, but Poppy is right," Dumbledore said kindly. "You must rest." Severus grumbled at him, too. "Now, the question of who could've done this."

"I should think that would be obvious," Severus snapped, narrowing his eyes at the older wizard.

"Oh? Who?" he asked obliviously.

"Perhaps the person who has already broken into Hogwarts on at least four separate occasions," he hissed exasperatedly.

"That doesn't make sense," Minerva protested. "The note in Hermione's room clearly indicated that the attacker is after Muggle-borns, and Hermione, in specific." She paused, as though realizing. "Unless you're suggesting that this person is using her as a means to an end…and that the true target is…you?"

Severus scowled, but said nothing. Dumbledore and Minerva exchanged a glance.

"Severus," Minerva said sternly. "What aren't you telling us?"

He took a breath. Might as well lay out all his cards now. There was no backing out, now that she'd figured it out.

"There is no doubt that the intruder's target is me," he said lowly, staring at them with a sharp gaze. "Shortly after Lucius Malfoy was sentenced by the Wizengamot, I received a note in the exact same handwriting as the other, which read, 'You'll pay.' They are striking at Miss Granger to get to me."

The two were silent for a moment. Dumbledore's twinkle had faded.

"Does she know this?" Minerva asked at length.

Severus shook his head. "I don't believe so."

"Then what was this?" Dumbledore wondered aloud. "Have they given up on their attacks on Miss Granger, having rattled you enough on that count?"

"That doesn't seem likely," Minerva countered. "They have not reached their ultimate goal, which is to make Severus suffer. Hermione has only had impermanent damage to her rooms and a threatening note, nothing more. There is no reason to surrender yet."

"Then this was an attempt to incapacitate you," he pondered, stroking his beard idly. "In order to keep you from protecting her."

Severus sneered. "I would say he did a fair job of it."

"Don't worry, Severus," Minerva soothed. "Hermione has the rest of the staff to keep an eye on her, as well as her friends. She'll be safe."

He only scowled at her.

"Have you considered the possibilities of who this could be then?" Dumbledore interrupted. "Who knows of your attachment to—"

"I have," Severus snapped, glaring at him. "My assumption is that someone is displeased with me about Malfoy's imprisonment. However, this helps very little since Miss Granger and I spent much of a day in Hogsmeade in each other's company, and many people could've misconstrued the situation. Particularly since it was—" he sneered, "Valentine's Day."

Dumbledore's twinkle returned full-power.

Minerva sighed. "I have a class now. We'll have to continue this later."

"Very well. I'll see you at dinner," Dumbledore said genially.

She nodded, then paused. "Severus…she'll be all right." And then she left.

Severus glared after her while Dumbledore chuckled.

* * *

Hermione fidgeted with 'The Black Sheep' as she walked toward the hospital wing. She knew she probably shouldn't be doing this, but she needed to do something for him. He'd helped her when Crookshanks was hospitalized, and now she wanted to return the favor. Even if she couldn't do as much for him as he'd done for her.

He would probably think this was against the 'not addressing certain things' rule, but that was why she wouldn't be going _in_ to see him. Besides, he'd given her a secret gift once. She could do the same.

Hermione nodded decidedly to herself and cracked open one of the doors, knocking lightly to call for Madam Pomfrey's attention. It was already dark inside, but she hoped Pomfrey would still be up. She was just about to call for her, but she felt her arm snatched and she was swung inside before she could say a word.

She was surprised to find Pomfrey before her, gripping her shoulders so as not to let her escape.

"Thank Merlin!" Pomfrey exclaimed, and she looked on the verge of hugging her. "I'm so glad you're here, dear!"

"Um…thanks." Hermione cleared her throat, lifting the book. "I was wondering if you could give this to Professor Snape for—"

"Oh, please do so yourself!" she begged, steering her toward a screened-off bed with surprising strength. "I have been dealing with the man all day long and it's more than I can stand. He is the most stubborn patient I've ever had the misfortune of treating—even worse than Mr. Potter. It's so good of you to come and alleviate some of the burden."

"Well, actually, I—" Hermione sputtered.

Pomfrey swung open the curtain. "Here you are, Severus! A visitor to see you!"

She gave Hermione a shove and she stumbled into the area, clutching the book to her chest.

"I'm sure Miss Granger can cheer you up!" Pomfrey said happily, then pulled the screen shut and trotted away.

Hermione shook her head as a feeling of déjà vu overtook her. The last time something like that happened to her, she was at the Burrow, visiting over the summer, and Mrs. Weasley shoved her into Ron's room because he'd been sick for days and hadn't stopped bellyaching about missing his friends and the great outdoors. She'd gotten sick two days after returning home.

Hermione sighed and turned about to find Severus staring at her in that intense way he had. She suppressed a smile when she felt a tingle travel over her skin and cleared her throat instead.

"Sorry about that," she said sincerely. "I wasn't actually going to come in here and disturb you—I really just wanted to borrow you this book—but she's rather insistent. Not that I didn't _want_ to come and see you, but with the rumors that have been spreading recently—so sorry about that, by the way—and our whole agreement about not addressing certain subjects until the end of the year, I—"

"Breathe," Severus instructed sharply.

She did, and then smiled sheepishly at him.

"Sorry," she said again.

He dipped his head and folded his arms, and she allowed herself to really look at him for the first time since her entrance. He wasn't in the usual hospital gown—he'd probably refused, of course, and had obviously insisted on wearing his normal garb—and he wasn't under the covers. Instead, his legs were stretched out along the bed, crossed at the ankles, and he was leaning against the pillows at the head of the bed, sitting up straight. There were various bandages over his body, some showing a little red. The most noticeable was the bandage wrapped around his wand hand, rendering him incapable of making a fist.

Her stomach roiled dangerously again and she bit her lip, trying to contain her worry. Apparently she'd failed to do so, though, for when she met his gaze again, he was smirking in his self-satisfied way. She'd only seen this expression a few times, but it was unmistakable—it was the same look he used on Harry when he bested him in an argument.

"What rumors are you referring to?" Severus purred suddenly, smirk slowly fading.

Hermione swallowed. "You…didn't hear?"

"I do not make a habit of listening to the students' gossip," he replied.

"Of course." She sighed, licking her suddenly dry lips. "Well, I don't listen to it all that often myself, but this morning…Lavender asked me…." She trailed off, unable to complete that sentence for some reason.

Severus arched a brow. "Yes?"

She sighed. "Lavender asked me if I was shagging you to help Harry's grade," she blurted.

His expression darkened automatically, eyes crackling the way they did when he was extremely angry. Hermione hurried to fix it.

"I-I told them it wasn't true, b-because it's not," she added hastily. "Apparently there are several different versions in each House, but it originated in Slytherin. Supposedly. I-I don't really know, but Lavender is now spreading the rumor that I'm a virgin, since she found it incredibly scandalous when I told her that I couldn't possibly be shagging you when I've never shagged anyone."

Severus relaxed visibly, though now he looked disgusted. He scoffed.

"That may possibly be the first true rumor to ever circulate this school," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Hermione smiled a little. "Well, I'm sure Lavender will jazz it up somehow. It'll soon be that I've never snogged, never even kissed. Nor have I ever been aroused, or ever had a dirty thought in my life. In fact, I don't know what sex is. And despite the fact that I'm a witch and not Catholic, I'll soon be a nun. Which Lavender will hate, because, honestly, how old-fashioned _are_ they?"

He was wearing his 'amused' expression. She offered a small grin and a comfortable silence settled between them. She marveled silently at the fact that they'd just made references to sex without getting all awkward and nervous. It was definitely progress.

Before she could think of anything else to say, Severus cleared his throat and swung his legs off the bed, gesturing toward her book. She noted with a frown that his movements were stiff, as though he were in pain.

"What was it you were bringing me?" he inquired, arching a brow.

"Oh, right!"

She smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, offering the book to him. He took it carefully and scanned the title, eyes glittering in the dim light.

"I remembered you saying you might be interested in it on New Year's Eve," she said quickly, already growing excited to hear his thoughts on it. "So I thought, while you're here, you could…you know, occupy yourself with it." She smiled.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

Hermione gritted her teeth tight to keep from gaping at him. She had never heard him say those two words together in the entirety of their acquaintance. Instead, she nodded and smiled at him again.

"You're welcome."

Severus held her gaze for a long, tense moment. Hermione felt like something was missing from this interaction, like she should hug him or…something. Eventually, though, he broke the tension by averting his gaze, and she let out a breath, dropping her eyes. It was then that she noticed that his bandage was so soaked it was dripping.

"Oh, my—your hand!" she exclaimed.

He shot her a confused look, then glanced at it and groaned.

"Damn," he grumbled, holding it aloft. "Give me a moment."

He shifted to place the book aside and tend to the wound himself, but she just couldn't help herself. She scooted closer on the bed and took the book from him, setting it on the stand next to the bed.

"No, let me," she blurted, taking his hand and carefully unpeeling the bandage.

Hermione quickly unwound it from his hand and tossed the soaked bandage onto the tray at the end of the bed, still holding his wrist. She pulled out her wand and cast a cleansing charm, sending the blood off his hand. Fresh blood immediately sprang from the wound, so she nabbed a cloth from the supply tray and pressed it against the wound, realizing as she finally sat still that her breathing was quite rapid.

She focused on slowing herself down, eyes on the cloth, despite the tingling up and down her spine that indicated Severus was looking at her. She licked her lips and adjusted her grip on his arm, trying to calm herself down with the thought that he was perfectly fine. If she stopped the bleeding, he would be all right. It took her a moment to realize that his thumb was running around her knuckle in a slow, mesmerizing pattern.

Hermione watched it for a long moment, growing more desirous by the second. She glanced up at him furtively, but he seemed unaware of what he was doing, for his gaze was still on her. She realized with a start that he was using the thumb he shouldn't have been.

"Don't," she said automatically, and his thumb left her knuckle immediately. At his closed-off look, she hastened to add, "Move your hand too much. You'll make it bleed more. And the sooner it stops bleeding, the faster it can heal, and the sooner you'll be out of here."

Severus merely smirked at her and she tried to ignore the butterflies that stirred up in her stomach. Instead, she pulled the cloth away and, once she was satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, she picked up a new set of bandages and began binding his hand once more. He waited patiently, watching her as she worked, and she couldn't help but smile. He bent to catch her eye, brow arched.

"What?" he asked, looking puzzled.

Hermione focused on sealing the bandage as she murmured, "I like it when you let me take care of you."

"And when else have I allowed you to do so?" he inquired, sounding half-amused, half-interested.

"At the end of third year," she replied, releasing his hand when she'd finished the bandage. "You had me brew a potion for you." He gazed at her in silence. "You were probably too hungover to remember," she said lightly, though in truth she felt a bit stung.

"No, I remember," Severus said, almost sharply.

She met his eyes again, smiling a little. He didn't return it, only watching her intently.

"I believe you are the only student who would ever have put a ward in place to alert me to approaching visitors," he said seriously.

Hermione could only smile. Another comfortable silence fell between them and she fiddled with the edge of the bed, picking at imaginary lint. Eventually, Severus heaved a sigh and she looked up to find him digging in his pocket. She furrowed her brow at him and he pulled something out, removing a black string before handing it to her.

"I believe this belongs to you," he said lowly, eyes darkening.

She took it carefully and cradled it in the palm of her hand, eyes widening with surprise when she saw the periwinkle-clad ballerina that had been missing from her music box for two weeks now.

"Where did you find this?" she asked, aghast.

"It was strung from the rafters in my private lab," he growled, though his irritation wasn't directed at her, "and attached to a jar of infestus nocens."

"Oh, Se—" Hermione caught herself and cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry. But…why would they suddenly start attacking you?" she inquired, puzzled.

Severus only gave her a resigned expression.

"Unless they knew you were staying in my rooms and want me unprotected," she reasoned slowly, since he wasn't giving her any clues. "But that seems unlikely, since they were using Nott to get around the castle, and it's not like Imperiused people remember that sort of thing, right? Besides, you're not always with me." She frowned. "Have…are they after me because of…you?"

The look on his face said it all. Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"You knew all along?" she prompted. "Why didn't you tell me? D-do you not trust me?"

"I trust you," he said, with such resolve she was unable to question him. "I did not wish to burden you."

"Burden me with what? The knowledge that I'm being targeted because someone has a vendetta against the man I—" She paused and took a breath. "Did you think that I would blame you? Why didn't you tell me?"

Severus considered her. "Your safety was more important than any reason this person had for attacking you. I have been targeted all my life. If he had simply kept this between us, I would not have reacted in this way. He has made it…personal. And you had enough worries without concerning yourself with me."

Hermione hesitated. The warm feeling that spread throughout her at those words was rapidly weakening her offensive stance. Still, it was her right to worry about him, just as it was his right to protect her. It was part of their understanding, or so she'd thought.

"I appreciate that you thought about how I feel, and that you want to keep me safe," she said slowly, considering her words carefully. "But I want to know when you're in danger. I need to know. I mean, do you know how difficult it was for me earlier today when Ginny came up and told me you were in the hospital wing and I had no idea why?"

He shook his head minutely after a moment, and she took a breath, adding, "I understand if you can't tell me some things, but please…I need to know if you're not safe. You think I don't want to protect you as much as you want to protect me?" She smiled a little.

Severus avoided her gaze, and Hermione sighed and placed the ballerina in her pocket. It was reaching her curfew, and she'd promised Crookshanks she would spend some time with him before bed. So, on impulse, she hugged Severus. He stiffened immediately and she held him against her, sighing contentedly as she dug her fingers into his black locks. She waited until she felt him place his hands lightly on her back, then put her lips right next to his ear, whispering, "I'm so glad you're all right."

And then she decided she must've been feeling rather wicked tonight, because she kissed his cheek and flounced away.

* * *

Hermione admonished herself several times over as she made her way to her quarters. A hug and a kiss were sometimes exchanged between friends, of course, but not friends who shared a mutual attraction. Granted, she was convinced he couldn't possibly be suffering as badly as she was—she was in love with him, after all—but a whisper in the ear was completely uncalled for.

It felt like cheating, somehow. She was playing against the comfortable rules they'd set months ago. And she felt horribly guilty. But there was no taking it back now, she supposed. She just hoped Severus didn't decide that such a woman was not for him.

Her musings were interrupted when she heard a peculiar sound from the classroom she'd just passed. She stopped on the spot and listened closely. There it was again—like something slithering across wet stone. She pulled out her wand and approached the door slowly, tense and ready to spring into action, if need be. Frankly, she hoped it was just a student doing some practicing, but there was always a chance it could be something else.

Hermione slowly cracked the door open and peered into the empty and dark classroom. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary, but then again, she couldn't really see more than three feet in. She slipped further inside, silently lighting her wand, but just as she did, her legs were swept out from under her and her wand went flying across the room.

Something snatched her legs and she reached for her wand, trying to summon it with wandless magic. Whatever it was jerked her through the air and swung her against the far wall. She hit it hard and fell to her knees, though she quickly went to retrieve her wand again. She couldn't see anything in front of her, though, and whatever it was suddenly had her around the neck.

Hermione clawed at it as it lifted her up, trying to pry it away from her neck as it pressed down with crushing strength. She gasped for air and consciousness, reaching out mentally for her wand, even as her vision went black.


	25. Seventh Year: Part Seventeen

**Disclaimer:** Gasp. Still not mine. Shocked, aren't you?

**A/N:** I really wanted to update this sooner, but I've got this gigantic research paper hanging over my head, so my attention has been split. Please forgive me.

* * *

Harry lounged on his bed, listening to Ron mutter to himself as he attempted to defeat the evil Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. Luna was at another Charms Club meeting, and Lavender was…well, he didn't know what she was doing. Only that Ron had been attached to his side ever since dinner. Perhaps they'd had a row again.

He shrugged it off and turned back to the Marauder's Map, perusing it idly for signs of any names he didn't know. Hermione had made him promise not to be overprotective, but, as he saw it, this wasn't crossing the line. He was just keeping an eye out, not guarding her door.

So far, there hadn't been any suspicious names that he saw. Dumbledore was pacing in his office, as usual, and Neville was on his way back from the greenhouses. Snape was on one of the hospital beds, Pomfrey's feet nearby. He scanned it for Luna and found her footprints on the second floor with a few other Ravenclaws. He smiled to himself and resumed scanning.

There were Draco and Ginny, doing something he didn't want to know about, judging from the closeness of their footprints. McGonagall was talking to Flitwick in the staff room, and there was Hermione. A few minutes ago, she'd been next to Snape's bed, which hadn't surprised him in the least. He knew from experience that Hermione simply couldn't stay away when people she cared about were hurt.

Now she was standing still in an empty classroom. Harry went to open to another level, but footprints down the hall from Hermione caught his eye. 'Larkin Marius' was the label. _Larkin Marius? Who is L—!_ Harry leapt up from the bed, snatching his wand from the nightstand. Ron jumped visibly, making their owls fluff their feathers.

"Ron, get your wand and go help Hermione," Harry ordered immediately, grabbing his sleeve and yanking him off the bed. "She's in the fifth empty classroom from the hospital wing, now go!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" Ron yelped, tripping over his shoelaces as Harry steered him out the door.

As soon as he saw to it that Ron was on his way, Harry lifted the map and looked for Larry, Draco's crazy uncle. There he was, heading down the stairs. If he hurried, he could catch him. Harry took off at a run, keeping a tight grip on the map.

* * *

Neville whistled to himself as he headed down the mostly empty corridor, ready for a good night's rest after a few tiring hours of gardening. It was particularly difficult to weed a Chinese Chomping Cabbage, since they seemed to think that anything within their range was food. Still, he'd enjoyed himself, which was what he and Professor Sprout agreed was the most important thing.

He skirted past the hospital wing doors. Snape was terrifying enough _not_ injured. He couldn't imagine the man being forced into bed rest. He wondered if Hermione had gotten a chance to visit him and brushed the notion aside. She probably hadn't had time and, besides, she seemed pretty stuck to this 'we have to wait' thing. He didn't mind that in the least.

Neville really didn't mind Hermione being in love with the man, even if he was horrifying. But the longer he could go without being in Snape's presence, the better. And he had a feeling that if the two got together, he'd have to be seeing a lot more of Snape than he could handle.

Granted, as Hannah said the other day, Snape might be a lot nicer with Hermione's influence. Right before he assured her the rumors weren't true. He felt bad lying to Hannah, but he couldn't have mean rumors about his friend floating around. He could just see Snape fleeing from Hermione as soon as he realized they were being speculated about.

Neville was interrupted from his musings when he noted that a classroom door was open up ahead. He frowned curiously—normally there would be light coming from a door if it was open—then shrugged it off, stepping up to shut it. That was when he saw the outline of someone being hung in the air by something that looked distinctly like an African Strangler, which was impossible.

Sprout never allowed those on the grounds. For one thing, they were too large and extremely dangerous at their full size.

Neville lit his wand anyway, unable to get rid of the niggling feeling that this wasn't fake. He gasped immediately at the sight of the thick green vine wrapped firmly around Hermione's throat and raised his wand.

"Let her go!" he shouted at the plant, casting a Reducto at its source, which was in a huge pile of dirt near a corner of the room.

The spiked orange head swiveled around and came at him, so he shouted, "Protego!" It smacked into his shield and retracted, almost as if in pain. Neville came closer, gripping his wand tight and raising his chin confidently.

"Stop it," he instructed. "Let her go, or I'll do it again." He flicked his wand threateningly.

The plant gradually loosened its grip on the limp Hermione, who nearly fell to the ground as soon as its hold was slack enough. Neville cast 'Mobilicorpus', catching her just in time, and carefully lowered her to the ground. He ran to her side and shook her shoulders, but she was completely out of it.

"Hermione? Wake up! Come on, open your eyes," he urged, glancing furtively at the plant. He had to get her out of there—quick. "Hermione, please. _Rennervate_," he said uncertainly.

When she didn't react, Neville sighed and scooped his arm under her shoulder, trying to lift her from the floor. He got her into a sitting position when he heard her cough and felt her sag against him.

"Hermione?" he prompted hopefully, leaning to catch her eyes.

She blinked at him. "Neville?" she replied hoarsely.

He hugged her and she coughed again, gripping her throat.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here before it attacks again," he explained, moving to help her up.

"Too late," she rasped, shoving him aside at the same time.

The plant swerved around to sweep around Hermione's legs, but she reached out her hand and summoned her wand from the ground and must've cast a shield charm, because it smacked into an invisible wall and flopped onto the floor. Hermione leapt over it while it was still down and ran to Neville's side, grabbing his arm and urging him to run.

He ran with her toward the door, feeling her pull on his shirt as the plant darted in front of them. She cast a spell, knocking it back into the wall, and he added his own until it moved out of their way. Then they hauled off through the door and he slammed it shut just as the plant came toward them. He held it shut tight and Hermione waved her wand again, spreading the tingling sensation of magic up his spine.

Neville breathed a sigh of relief and turned about. Hermione staggered and sank to the ground, leaning against the wall and gasping for breath. Each exhale sounded painful and wheezy, and the inhalations were that much worse. She held her throat and closed her eyes, as though trying to will the pain away.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously, sinking down next to her.

Hermione nodded. "Fine," she croaked.

He frowned. "No, you're not. Come on, let's get you to the hospital wing."

He started to rise, but she yanked down on his sleeve, shaking her head rapidly.

"Hermione, you're hurt. You need a Healer," Neville said adamantly.

She shook her head again. "No. I'll be fine. But I need you to help me."

"You need Madam Pomfrey to help you," he retorted.

"No," she hissed, then gulped in a breath of air. "I need you to help me…research. Herbologists."

"What good is that going to do you? You were just strangled by a thirty foot plant," he countered, shaking his head.

"Need to…know who has access…to plants like that," she managed. All this talking was obviously wearing her out. "Whoever does…probably had Nott bringing in…loads of dirt…and wa—"

"Okay, that's it. You're going to the hospital wing," he said sharply, starting to lift her from the floor.

"Hermione?" someone panted.

They both looked up and Ron came hopping down the stairs on one shoe, wand held aloft. He spied them and frowned, looking confused.

"What are you doing?" Neville prompted for Hermione, who was busy wheezing. "Why do you only have one shoe on?"

"Harry said Hermione needed help," Ron replied, pouting. "And I lost my shoe back in the common room, I think."

"How did Harry know she was in trouble?" he asked, frowning.

"He was looking at the Marauder's Map, that's all I know," the redhead said, shrugging.

"He probably saw…the person. They likely charmed the…plant to attack me specifically." Hermione coughed, pulling on Neville's arm to help herself up. "We need to tell Dumbledore…and find Harry."

"You're going to the hospital wing first," Neville insisted.

"I'll be fine," she rasped sternly. "Just need time to recover. Tell Dumbledore about the plant. Ron, we'll find Harry."

Ron hesitated. "Hermione, you really sound li—"

"Now."

"Okay."

"Okay, but _promise_ me you'll go to the hospital wing after you find Harry," Neville demanded, holding her elbow.

"Fine," she wheezed. "Now get going."

He frowned and reluctantly left her in Ron's care.

* * *

Harry had tracked Larkin Marius down to the first floor, and he'd gotten the feeling a while ago that the wizard knew he was being followed. He kept taking shortcuts and trying to evade him, but now Harry had him trapped. Hermione would've been proud of his thinking. He'd cast a Silencing Charm on his feet and used the Echo Spell she'd taught him during preparation for the Third Task to confuse Marius into thinking he was coming from the opposite direction.

Marius was now in one of the empty classrooms, hiding out from his phantom follower. Harry only wished he'd thought to grab his own Invisibility Cloak. He shrugged it off—too late now—and folded the map in his pocket, since holding it would be rather inconvenient in a fight. Then he carefully cracked the door open and slipped inside, locking it and standing directly in front of it, blocking the wizard's way.

He listened carefully for any sounds of movement, but it appeared that Marius was smart enough to use a Silencing Charm. Harry frowned deeply. Summoning Invisibility Cloaks didn't work, if the effect they had on his was any indication. That meant he would have to provoke him into revealing his position.

"I know who you are," he announced to the room, glaring into the shadows suspiciously and holding his wand out.

There was a soft chuckle to his left. He swiveled around to face it.

"Well, if it isn't the Great Harry Potter," the voice replied, moving as it talked, "meddling in my plans."

"Yeah, I'm a brat that way," he retorted, shrugging.

"So I've heard," he said, but it was coming from several feet to the right.

"Look, I don't know what you have against Hermione or why you're doing this to her," Harry snapped, "but I want you to stop."

"Oh, I will," the voice assured him, and it had moved again. "After all, now that she's dead, there's very little point in continuing."

Harry's heart raced and he gritted his teeth, hardly able to breathe at the thought of Hermione dead.

"You're wrong!" he bellowed. "She's not dead."

"Sorry to disappoint, but African Stranglers aren't known for letting go of their prey," he said casually.

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, struggling with the urge to Crucio this bastard into next week. Hermione could not be dead. She just couldn't. It wasn't true. He fought to control his breathing and his temper, which was flaring up all over the place. He couldn't attack too soon—he had to control himself.

He thought about what Luna would advise him to do and immediately calmed down. That was it—he'd just wait this blackguard out until he slipped up. He couldn't let him get to him. Harry sighed, gradually relaxing himself and listening more intently for hints as to where he'd gone.

"Well, since you've already killed her anyway," he said calmly, "why don't you tell me why you did it?"

Marius chuckled again, and this time Harry heard a distinct maniacal edge to it.

"Why does anyone murder someone?" he inquired happily. "Revenge."

"So you're telling me you killed that man in Stranraer for revenge purposes?" he retorted.

"Indeed. I asked nicely for the cloak, but he wouldn't give it to me," he explained.

"Can't imagine why," Harry muttered.

He chuckled. "Pity it had to end that way."

"So…uh, what did Hermione ever do to you?"

"Nothing in particular," Marius answered nonchalantly. "Although it's always nice to be rid of a Mudblood."

Harry bristled and wrestled with himself for control.

"You said revenge, though," he reminded him, grinding his teeth.

"Of course, but not against her," he said, as though it should be obvious. "Nor you, although I personally wouldn't mind being the one to kill the infamous Boy Who Lived." He paused. "In fact, this is rather like a two-for-one deal, now that I think about it."

Harry started. "Snape. You're after Snape, aren't you?"

"Certainly took you long enough." He scoffed. "How on earth did you ever defeat the Dark Lord?"

"Stupidity and a lot of luck," he replied honestly. "Not to mention some help from my friends and, as it happens, Snape."

"Yes, that happens to be a reason to be rid of the traitor."

"He's not a traitor," Harry said sharply. "Too bad I can't say the same for Voldemort."

Marius hissed. "Don't speak his name."

"Voldemort turned his back on Lucius Malfoy," he taunted. "He let him rot in Azkaban. He didn't care a lick about your family, or about anyone but himself."

"Silence," he snapped, and this time his voice was in the same place. "You don't know anything about it."

Death Eaters were too easy. Harry sent a hex flying to the spot Marius had stopped at, but a wand appeared in thin air and the spell was blocked. Marius sent a purple hex his way and Harry blocked that one. They exchanged spells, neither successfully hitting the other, although Marius managed to blast a desk Harry lunged behind into smithereens.

Harry still didn't have the advantage, since he slipped his wand back into his cloak each time he finished casting a spell. So Harry tried to keep him busy by throwing hex after hex, trying to catch him at a weak moment. Eventually, however, Marius managed to move out of Harry's range, and there was silence in the room for several moments while Harry tried to quiet his breathing.

He heard a slight tap behind him and whipped around, simultaneously feeling his body go stiff and numb.

* * *

Harry slumped into Ron when he came to, shaking his head hard as he tried to clear it. Hermione stroked his back and Ron held him up, both watching him concernedly. Harry sighed heavily and blinked several times, trying to get the feeling back into his limbs. He hated body-binds.

"Are you all right, mate?" Ron asked, patting his shoulder when he was standing on his own.

Harry bobbed his head. "Should've grabbed _my_ Invisibility Cloak on the way."

He stared at a worried Hermione for a few moments before realizing what was bothering him. She was alive! He snatched her up and swung her around, hugging her for all he was worth. Hermione croaked out a yelp of surprise, but let him twirl her in the air until he was satisfied, simply holding onto his shoulders till he was done. When he finally set her on her feet and kissed her forehead, Ron was laughing silently and Hermione looked confused.

"What was that for?" she asked hoarsely.

"Marius told me you were dead," Harry replied darkly.

She frowned. "Marius? Who—Draco's Uncle Larry?" He nodded and she smacked her forehead. "Why didn't I realize it before? Of course! He saw us on Valentine's Day and he sells plants! And he probably isn't too happy with Severus about landing Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban!" She coughed.

"Hermione, you sound like—"

"I'm fine," she said firmly, though she was still wheezy.

"You knew he was after Snape?" Harry asked, brow furrowing.

"Not until this evening," Hermione clarified. "But it all makes sense."

"…How?" the redhead prompted.

Harry smiled when Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Don't you see? Lucius helped Marius move into Hogsmeade in November, and they obviously formed a bond," she explained, pausing occasionally to take a breath—which Harry had never seen her do during an explanation. He was a little worried. "Severus was the one to come up with evidence to place Lucius in Azkaban, so Marius decided then to seek his revenge, only he wanted him to…suffer, not just to kill him.

"He knew he would need something to help him get in and out of Hogwarts, so he found himself an Invisibility Cloak, but he still needed more. When Severus defended me…in Hogsmeade that day, Marius had an inkling, which Nott clearly confirmed…when he was drunk. He probably unintentionally revealed…a few things, possibly untrue things, both about himself and about me. But…either way, it worked. Marius had someone to do his dirty work…_and_ someone to use to make Severus suffer.

"After the raid on my rooms, he had Nott bringing in dirt…and watering the African Strangler, all the while trying to find more ways…to torment us. So he attacked Severus, both to keep him…from protecting me when it came time for me to be strangled by the plant—which it makes sense…for him to use since he sells plants for a living so he's probably fairly skilled…with them—and to hurt him. Really, the only question is how he got his hands on an African Strangler." She was gasping for air by this point.

"Oh," Ron said.

"Hermione, are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked worriedly. "You look like you're in pain."

"Well, she _did_ just get strangled by a plant," Ron observed. "Probably hurts to talk."

"We should take you to the hospital wing," he said uncertainly.

"No. I just need to sleep it off," Hermione croaked dismissively. "And get some…water. I'll be fine in the morning."

"But you told Neville you'd—" Ron shut up when she shot him a dark look.

"Ron, take her back up to her rooms and see that she does rest," Harry instructed, frowning at her. "I'm going to Dumbledore to fill him in."

"Yes, sir," the redhead replied, saluting and taking Hermione's arm.

"And if you're not better in the morning, you're going to the hospital wing if we have to drag you," Harry warned.

Hermione pouted back at him, but followed Ron anyway.

* * *

"How many times must I tell you? You still haven't fully healed!" Poppy exclaimed exasperatedly as Severus pulled on his boots. "I can't release you until you have."

"The potions you gave me yesterday evening managed to counteract the anti-coagulant inherent in infestus nocens' bite," Severus replied calmly, ignoring her shrill tone and the way she was worrying her hands. "Nearly every wound is healed, and I can take care of the rest perfectly well on my own."

"It doesn't matter if you can or you can't," she retorted, shaking her head severely. "It's my job—my duty—to care for the people of this school to the best of my abilities."

"It's your duty to care for the students," he corrected as he stood, towering over her. "Fully-capable adult wizards who have experienced worse are another matter entirely."

"When it comes to your injuries, you do not qualify as an adult, Severus," she retorted sternly. "You continued to use your hand, even with my warnings, and I saw the bandage Miss Granger was kind enough to remove for me."

"That was not my doing," he said sharply. "The anti-coagu—"

"Blame it on the nocens all you like, but I've known you for years," Poppy countered, folding her arms as she blocked his way. "And you would've tried to use that hand if half your fingers were gone."

Severus rolled his eyes. "It is fortunate, then, that they are not."

He sidestepped her and headed for the door, keeping Hermione's book tucked to his side. He'd gotten rather far in it during the night, as he hadn't been able to sleep even without Crookshanks' intrusions. Knowing Hermione was alone in her quarters again wasn't exactly a recipe for sound sleeping.

"I will tell Albus about this, you know," Poppy threatened. "And Minerva, and you know they'll both side with me."

"I have already missed one day of classes," he said irritably. "I do not intend to miss another."

Before Poppy could reply, their argument was interrupted by an approaching one, which had both of them freezing in their tracks. Severus exchanged a glance with Poppy, who was frowning in consternation. Gradually, the muffled voices became clearer, and he listened interestedly.

"But I _am_ better," a strikingly familiar feminine voice protested.

"You are not," a male retorted.

"You sound like someone stuffed a hairbrush down your throat and started scratching," another male added.

"Ooh, hairbrush examples. Someone's been spending too much time with Lavender," the female replied, and Severus started.

"That's not the issue here," another female—had to be the Weasley girl—reminded her. "Now come on."

"But I'm fine!" Hermione's cracking voice protested.

"Hermione, you were strangled by a thirty foot plant," Potter's voice chimed in sharply. "You are not fine."

Every muscle in Severus' body tightened. His fist clenched around the book; his jaw snapped shut; his stomach clenched so tightly it threatened to rid him of the small breakfast he'd had; his eyes narrowed; and his body began to shake a little with rage. At that moment, the four of them burst through the doors, dragging Hermione by the arms.

"So? I survived, didn't I?" she retorted sourly.

"Barely," Weasley replied.

"And only because Neville saved you," the female Weasley added pointedly. "If he hadn't come along, Ron may have been too late."

"I don't think that—"

"Miss Granger!" Poppy exclaimed from behind Severus. "Has something happened?"

Hermione went to answer, but her eyes went straight to him and she clamped her mouth shut. Her three friends glanced between her and their former Potions professor. At last, Potter gathered himself and answered.

"She was attacked by an African Strangler last night," he explained.

"Neville is really upset that you lied to him, you know," the Weasley girl said suddenly, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"I didn't lie," Hermione replied hoarsely. "He asked me to promise and I said 'fine.' I didn't say I promised."

"How did this happen?" Poppy interrupted as she began gathering supplies.

"It's a big long story," Weasley replied sagely.

"But basically, Hermione was strangled for several minutes, passed out, and refused to come to the hospital wing," Potter added.

"Not several minutes," she hastened to correct, glancing at Severus anxiously.

He eyed her neck, which was starting to show signs of bruising. He tried to calm his breathing, but his nostrils flared despite himself. Hermione seemed to sense his anger, for she grew edgy and started to back away, so her friends would have to as well.

"Long enough to go unconscious," the Weasley girl countered.

"I wasn't unconscious for that long," Hermione assured him.

"Why didn't you come to the hospital wing?" Poppy asked sternly, gesturing toward a bed.

Hermione's friends began steering her, and Severus could only stand where he was. If he moved at all, he was afraid he would swoop her up and carry her down to his quarters, where he could heal her and keep her safe himself. Since obviously these morons could not do it.

"She thought she just needed water and rest and it would magically be fixed," Potter said sarcastically.

"If you wanted a magic fix, you probably should've gone for…magic," Weasley observed slowly.

Hermione gave him a look while Poppy scanned her neck with her wand.

"Thank you, Ron. I'll keep that in mind," she replied scathingly. "I don't know what all the fuss is about. It wasn't that bad. I'm all right."

"And that's why you were gasping like a fish on land last night," Potter retorted.

Hermione glanced at Severus, who ground his teeth together. He watched her shoot an annoyed glance at her friends while she allowed Poppy to fuss over her. Severus shifted the book from one hand to the other, the sweat of gripping it so hard starting to bother him.

"Now, this will heal the internal damage, but the bruises may not go away for a few days," Poppy was saying as she handed Hermione a vial. "It'll take a few minutes to set in, so I don't want you speaking and disrupting the healing for five minutes."

"Oh, goody," Miss Weasley said, rubbing her hands together. "Five minutes where you can't put up protests to what we say."

Hermione rolled her eyes and swung back the potion, shaking her head in disgust at the taste. Poppy nodded approvingly and took the empty vial from her, patting her on the shoulder.

"Very good, dear. I'll return in a few moments," she assured her, heading off toward her office.

"Hm. Five minutes where you can't talk back," Weasley said when she'd disappeared. "What, oh what, should we say?"

"Let's start with: you are so stubbornly stupid sometimes," the Weasley girl said irritably. "I can't believe you wouldn't come to the hospital wing. And breaking your promise to Neville. Shame." She shook her head.

Hermione bit her lip and Severus started to relax a bit, although he couldn't help shooting an irritable scowl at her friends.

"Oh! Here's something I always wanted to say when you can't talk back," Weasley piped up excitedly. "You are so—"

Potter cleared his throat, glancing at Severus. "Let's not get carried away, Ron. What we really need to be doing is thinking about how we can keep Hermione safer."

Hermione made a noise and bit her lip so hard it went white. Severus folded his arms, arching a brow at Potter and waiting for him to go on.

"I think one of us should be with her at all times," Miss Weasley suggested.

Hermione groaned.

"I agree, but how are we going to do it with our schedules?" Potter pointed out, sighing.

"Malfoy and Luna and Neville can help out, too," Weasley offered.

"Yeah, I'm sure they wouldn't mind," the latter Weasley agreed.

"And maybe we should all stay in her rooms at night, like Ron said before," Potter added.

Severus bristled and sneered at the boy, but before he could say anything, Hermione exclaimed, "NO!" And then promptly covered her mouth, going bright red.

"Who is upsetting my patient?" Poppy asked as she reentered, looking extremely displeased.

"N-nobody, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione assured her, and Severus breathed a sigh of relief—her voice was back to normal. "I was just telling my friends that it's not necessary for them to stay in my rooms at night. Loki is back up, Professor Dumbledore is working on getting him a second portrait, and I have wards up. Besides, I told you: none of that overprotective stuff."

"That was before you were nearly strangled to death," Potter countered, folding his arms.

"Harry, I'll be fine. Trust me." She hopped off the hospital bed. "What I really need is for you all to help me research. Ginny, if you could find out as much about Marius from Draco as you possibly can, that would be wonderful. Ron, see if Neville can give us more information about this African Strangler. Harry, if you could pull _Famous Herbologists Throughout History_ and _Most Dangerous Plants_ from the library and bring them to me during Advanced Charms, that would be much appreciated.

"Also, I'd like to borrow the map for a while, if you don't mind. It'll be easier for me to watch out for danger if I know where he is already, wouldn't you agree? I'm going to start out with some volumes I already have, so I'll see you all during Charms."

Hermione smiled at Poppy and thanked her briefly before heading toward the door, a determined glint in her eye. She smiled up at Severus as she passed him by, and he fought the very strong urge to follow her up to her rooms in favor of glowering at the now groaning and moaning trio of morons. Potter hurried them out the door in fast order and Severus followed them out before Poppy could issue another protest to his leaving.

After all, Hermione had just very strongly defended her rooms so he could continue staying there. It would be rude not to do so now.

* * *

Several hours later, Hermione heard someone distantly calling her name and she jerked awake with a start. Her stomach was still clenched in fear and she felt the urge to run, but someone was restraining her. She struggled to get away, fighting them and pushing off the bed with her legs. They wouldn't let go and she began to panic, crying out in frustration when she couldn't wriggle her arms free of their grasp.

"Hermione," someone grunted, sounding strained. "You're all right."

She looked up at the person in the dark and nearly sobbed with relief, sagging against him. She clutched Severus' shirt in a tight fist and pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heart race just below it. The beats started to slow with hers as he wrapped his arms around her, enclosing her in his warmth.

Hermione held onto him, needing the anchor of reality he provided. She realized when he began rubbing her back and arms that she was shaking. She nuzzled against him, keeping herself tucked close against him, and breathed in his calming scent.

"It was another nightmare," Severus said, although it sounded more like a question.

She nodded mutely, gripping the arm closest to her and tugging it against her. He took the hint and held her tighter, even rocking her a bit. She gradually relaxed against him, the terror of the nightmare wearing off while reality sank in. Eventually, she trusted her voice enough to say something, but as she tilted her head back to do just that, Severus was bending to catch her eyes and they collided.

Hermione jerked back a bit in surprise, but Severus maintained his position. His eyes glittered in the dark as he gazed at her intently, and she wondered what he was thinking. She didn't have long to wonder, for he leaned in and took her lips with his. For a split second, she was frozen in shock: unable to think, unable to move. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her, but after that split second, feeling came back with a vengeance.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back enthusiastically to make up for her non-response a second ago. He rubbed her bare arm with one hand, while the other held the back of her neck, holding her in place as he pressed slow, lingering kisses against her. Her fingers burrowed into his hair of their own accord and she shifted closer to him on the bed, arousal like she'd never experienced before rising with each one of his chaste kisses.

When his tongue swept slowly across her lower lip, Hermione moaned in surprise, and then Severus was deepening the kiss. Any thoughts she might've had were completely swept away by the sensations he was spreading through her body. He explored her mouth as thoroughly and vigorously as she often dreamt he would, if not more so, and soon he was lowering her back onto the bed.

His hands traveled up her sides so tightly she could feel the bandage still wrapped around his wand hand, and she realized belatedly that he was hiking up her nightgown until it was bunched high up on her hips. He drew another moan out of her as he covered her body with his, one hand spreading goose bumps over her thigh, and his tongue battling with hers.

By the time Severus pulled back for air, Hermione was aching so badly she was practically in tears. She stroked his hair lovingly and whimpered, "Oh, my God," quietly before he took her lips again, responding with a groan of his own. She felt him press against her through the little remaining clothing she had on and she moaned out, arching her back against him encouragingly. He ground against her, kissing her twice more, but then something in his expression changed.

Severus held himself up over her, keeping his hands off of her, and he shook his head, slowly backing away, despite the fact that she reached for him. Hermione propped herself up on her elbows as he stood, watching him in confusion. What the hell just happened?

"I apologize," he said at length, backing to the end of her bed. "That should not have happened. Forgive me."

He began pacing, as though admonishing himself, and Hermione huffed. Well, there was obviously going to be no persuading him to just forget whatever he'd remembered and to come back. She adjusted her nightgown and pulled her six blankets over her legs, sitting cross-legged. She could hear Crookshanks was playing with one of his rattling toys downstairs.

"Why?" she asked.

Severus halted and arched a brow at her.

"No, seriously," Hermione said irritably—which she felt she had a right to, since he'd gotten her all excited and then took it away. "Why shouldn't it have happened? I've been trying to figure it out since the night I discovered there was a remote possibility of this ever happening and I've decided that I don't get it. Why do we have to wait until the end of the year?"

He scowled. "You're my student; I'm your professor. It's—"

"No, I'm an apprentice. And you told me yourself that you aren't and won't ever again be my professor," she corrected. "So that can't be it."

"I'm still an authority figure," he countered.

"Actually…my only authority figures are the headmaster and my three masters," she retorted, thinking hard. "They're the only people who can give me rewards and punishments." He didn't say anything, so she cut in again, "Is there some school rule I don't know about or something? Because when I read them—mind you, it was a while back now—there wasn't anything about apprentices and professors, besides their masters. The only thing it said was that students and professors weren't allowed to date."

"There are other factors, Hermione," Severus said brusquely. "Not everyone would approve of such a relationship."

"If you're referring to the professors, I think you're sadly mistaken," she replied, smirking. "Don't tell me you don't remember this: 'See? Miss _Granger_ wants to come!'" she said dramatically, grinning at him. "Honestly, I think the man would be more excited than even me."

"I'm not referring only to professors," he said impatiently, shaking his head. "There are your fellow students, the wizarding world at large, your parents."

"Don't care, don't care, care but would hope they'd understand," Hermione said, shrugging. "Besides, my mum kind of already knows. About my half, anyway, and she didn't care."

"You may not care at the moment, but when you are ridiculed behind your back, bullied, even rejected for jobs for your relationship with me—"

She frowned, puzzled. "You really think people would react that strongly to us?" she asked skeptically.

"Some may," he allowed, scowling.

"Oh, well, then call the whole thing off," she said sarcastically. "People might judge me?! I just can't take that kind of pressure!"

"Hermione," he admonished, arching a brow at her.

She sighed. "Look, it wouldn't matter to me if the entire wizarding world said I was a tramp," she said seriously. "Don't you think that if I really cared about my reputation, I would've done a lot to change my situation—and my looks—a long time ago? All that is just a lot of talk. It has nothing to do with who a person really is."

"I'm afraid your first interviewer may not see it the same way," he retorted flatly, scowling.

"You think that just because I dated a professor at my school, I won't be able to get a job? _Goyle's_ dad got a job. I think if a halfwit ex-Death Eater can find work, so can I," Hermione said pointedly.

"He works at a metal charming factory," he said, scowling.

"And he's stupid. If that's the best he could do, imagine what kind of work _I'll_ get," she said cheerfully.

Severus shot her a reproving look. "This is not a joke," he said sternly.

"Do you see me laughing?" she shot back.

They maintained a stare for a moment before he broke her gaze, sighing.

"Our age difference—" he began hesitantly.

"19 years, 8 months, and 10 days?" she piped up, smiling when he shot her a surprised look. "Staff birthdays are posted on the Notice Board—you should look at it sometime. That's much better than Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore's forty-four years, wouldn't you say? From what I've heard, this sort of thing happens in the wizarding world occasionally. Age differences aren't that big a deal. And if you're thinking of my parents…well, Dad is ten years older than Mum. That's practically twenty years when you convert it to the wizard lifespan."

When he only stared at her, Hermione frowned in thought and ventured carefully as she asked, "Or…is this a 'you're so young and naïve' thing?"

"You are young," he said at last, frowning. "And, as such…you may not have thought this through as well as you think. It's part of why I gave you a year: to reconsider your opinion of me."

"Why should I? I see you perfectly well," she said firmly.

"Do you?" he challenged, sneering a bit. "Have you even considered that I was once a murdering servant of the Dark Lord?"

She nodded, admitting quietly, "I have."

"I don't think you have," he retorted.

"No, I remember, because that was the summer I dated someone else," Hermione replied calmly.

She avoided his eyes for a moment when she felt the magical power in the room spike up. She felt his anger as clearly as she had that night in the Shrieking Shack, only this time it didn't scare her. He wasn't angry with her, she knew, and he would never hurt her anyway. When she met his eyes, they were crackling.

"What?" he hissed.

"I told you in Dumbledore's office that I tried to move on with Viktor, but it didn't work. That didn't mean I _stopped_ trying," Hermione explained evenly. She took a deep breath. "You're acting like I saw you in the Mirror of Erised and decided that that was it, but that's not how it happened at all. It's taken years for me to accept what I saw as true, or even real. When I first saw it…quite honestly, I freaked out.

"I couldn't believe I wanted someone so hateful and cruel, despite the small crush I had on you. All through second and third year, I tried to talk myself out of it. And in fourth year, I made the Wish Away Draught—partly because I was angry with you, partly because wanted to be over you. And after Viktor, I…I tried to convince myself I could never love you. And I used a Muggle friend I'd had for years to do it."

She bit her lip and fiddled with her blankets again before she went on. "It was awkward and uncomfortable. I don't like to think about it, and I've never actually talked to anyone about it. And it would never have worked, because, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself you were an evil Death Eater, I still loved you. The more I thought about it, the more I fell in love with you for making the right choice and being so brave in turning your life around.

"In the end, fifth year was the result of a lot of convincing myself it would never happen, and shoving my feelings aside," she concluded with a sigh. "And then last year, you had to go and make me hope again."

When she finished, Hermione reluctantly met his eyes again, but there was no longer any anger there. Severus merely stood there, listening intently, it appeared. At length, he took a breath and said, quietly, "Perhaps it would be best if…we reinstated some distance, boundaries…between us, then."

"Please don't pull away from me now," she blurted, unable to help herself. "I've waited seven years for even the slightest bit of closeness between us. Don't take it away."

"I do not want things to move too quickly," he replied, almost gently.

Hermione huffed, fed up. "Know what? You're right. We are moving too quickly. So, when should I meet you for our first date? Two years good?" Severus sighed, but she barreled on anyway. "Unless that Valentine's Day actually did count as a date." She gasped, mock-scandalized. "I can't believe we went on a date when I'm still in such a position! Don't tell me…you also ogled me while I was just a student, didn't you?"

He scowled, although his lips were twitching, betraying him. She surveyed his expression and pressed a hand to her chest, gasping again.

"Unless…you still haven't, have you? Are you doing this all out of order?" she chided.

He turned a frown on her. "What is your hurry?" he hissed defensively. "If you feel the way you say you do, you should be able to wait less than three months for us."

Hermione scooted forward on the bed, standing on her knees, as she replied, "_You_ try waiting seven years, and then we'll see how you feel when I tell you just a few more months. Besides, if nothing else, the war taught me you have to grab onto what you have when you have it. Anything could happen—you shouldn't waste time."

"Yes, I can see you've employed that theory to your life quite religiously over the past seven years," he snapped, pacing again.

"Because it would've been a great idea for me to tell you how I felt when I was still jailbait and you hated me, right?" she retorted, folding her arms and scowling at him.

He rolled his eyes. "It isn't safe at the present time, anyway. This Larkin Marius is trying to kill you in order to get to me."

"Yeah?" Hermione frowned in confusion. "He already thinks you care about me, he's already trying to kill me, and he _probably_ knows you sleep in my quarters. How would us being together make it any more dangerous than it already is?

"Besides," she blurted before he could reply, "I've faced Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. I _think_ I can handle a vengeance-bent maniac with an Invisibility Cloak and poor penmanship."

"But not a plant, apparently," he retorted flatly.

"It was dark and the thing knocked my legs out from under me," she said defensively. "Next time I'll know to turn the light on first. It's just another lesson learned, that's all."

"I hope you've learned to see Madam Pomfrey sooner, rather than later," he grumbled.

She passed a hand over her throat. "She healed it just as well the morning after, and don't try to change the subject."

"You're a distraction," he growled. "I need my wits about me if I'm to protect you."

"Oh, so you think you'll be less distracted by me knowing you haven't had a chance to look at, or touch, or…." She trailed off suggestively, watching his eyes lock on her bare leg where she'd subtly lifted her nightgown during that little speech. "Certain places," she whispered at last.

His eyes snapped back to hers. "That is completely irrelevant," he snarled.

"I don't think it is," she replied cheekily, creeping closer to the end of the bed. This new power she had over him was a little heady. "Have you run out of excuses yet?"

Severus glared at her, but it had no power behind it. It was pretty laughable, actually.

Hermione smiled. "Good. Because I've waited seven years for you to want me, and I'm not going to give this up without a fight. However, if you tell me you've changed your mind, you can walk out and you won't hear a word from me from here on out. Promise."

He eyed her with a scowl, arms folded tight across his chest, and then he strode over to her, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, relishing in the way his body felt against hers. When at last he pulled away, she leaned her forehead against his and smiled, eyes still closed.

"I would still like to keep this between us, for the time being," Severus said cautiously, caressing the hair away from her cheeks.

She sighed and kissed him briefly. "Okay. If that's what it takes."

"That means your…friends—" and here he sneered, "hear nothing about it, as well, correct?"

Hermione frowned. "Why? They won't tell anyone. It'll just be Harry, who I have to tell because he's my best friend, and he'll want to tell Luna, but I would tell her anyway. And then Ginny, because she's my best girl friend and she'll feel all left out if I don't tell her, and she'll tell Draco, who probably won't even care. And, of course, I'll have to tell Neville, who probably won't want to tell anyone. And then, of course, Ron, but he'll only want to tell Lavender—oh, I see what you're saying…."

Severus smirked in amusement.

She blushed. "Okay, but they're the first to find out when we _do_ start telling people."

He dipped his head. "Agreed."

She sighed. "What about professors?"

"What about them?"

"Well, should we tell Dumbledore?"

"No," he said so firmly she laughed. "Out of all the people to tell, he is the last one I would."

She chuckled. "Why's that?"

"Without even saying a word, the entirety of Hogwarts, and soon the wizarding world, would know within a week," he informed her, shaking his head.

"I thought he was good at keeping secrets," she replied, smiling as he swayed her a bit.

"He is," he allowed. "When he wishes to be. When it is for the 'common good', as he puts it."

Hermione grinned. "I see. Then what about Professor McGonagall?"

"Why must we tell anyone?" Severus inquired, a bit annoyed.

"So when we tell everyone, someone is actually on our side."

Severus gave her a long, lingering kiss that kept going even after his lips left hers. She smiled lazily.

"What was that for?" she asked, sounding a little dopey, even to her own ears.

"You should've been in Slytherin," he muttered, kissing her again when she laughed. When this one ended, he said resignedly, "All right, we can tell Minerva. But no one else."

Hermione nodded and smiled. "Agreed."

She reached up for him and he obliged her, hands wandering to her hips as they kissed, making up for years of longing. Just as he deepened the kiss, however, he broke away and turned to glower down at Crookshanks, who was patting his leg. Severus glared at the cat and Hermione laughed when her Kneazle stared at her, tapping his tail angrily.

"Except you, Crookshanks," she assured him. "You're in on the secret, too."

Crookshanks blinked and purred, rubbing against the post of her bed. Hermione smiled up at Severus, butterflies flapping against her stomach as she grinned at him, half-nervously, half-excitedly.

"Do you want to…go to bed then?" she asked shyly.

Severus hesitated, then dipped his head. Hermione flashed him another small, happy grin and crawled back to the head of the bed, pulling back the covers for him and simultaneously sliding her legs underneath them. He stepped over Crookshanks to the side of the bed, gradually easing in next to her and helping her pull the blankets fully over them.

"You have six blankets," he observed as she propped her pillow up.

She blushed. "Night is a really cold time for me. If you get too warm, you can just throw them on me. I won't mind."

He nodded and lay back against his pillow, shifting his position three times in a row. Hermione leaned against her pillow, trying to decide how she should act, when something occurred to her.

"Oh, i-is this the side of the bed you like?" she asked, patting her pillow.

He looked over at her. "Why, is this side your preference? If you'd like to switch, we—"

"No, no. I-I just didn't want you to be uncomfortable," she cut in, clearing her throat.

"I'm comfortable," he said lowly, sending a tingle through her centre.

"Oh, good."

She rolled onto her back. There was another long silence while they listened to Crookshanks gobble down some food. And none-too-quietly, either. Hermione tapped her hands lightly on her stomach, wondering how she would ever sleep with him next to her. She glanced over to see that his eyes were still open, too, so it wasn't just her. She cleared her throat again.

"Sweet dreams," she said uncertainly.

He turned his head. "Good night, Hermione."

She smiled and decided to turn over and go to sleep, but now that their gazes had caught, she couldn't seem to look away. Instead, she shifted onto her side and leaned in with him for a good night kiss, basking in his affections when he stroked her bruised neck with a gentle hand. She smiled at him when he pulled away, sighing happily. A part of her suddenly relaxed that hadn't in such a long time that she yawned, feeling ready to sleep now.

"Good night," he said again, smirking at her.

"Good night," Hermione replied, yawning again and closing her eyes, "Severus."


	26. Secrets: Part One

**Disclaimer:** Sigh. Still not mine.

* * *

Hermione stretched her legs out along the bed, groaning as she released her stiff joints. She reached over to snatch her watch off the nightstand and sighed. Almost time for breakfast. Severus was probably already gone, she thought disappointedly. She'd been hoping to catch him before he left, and perhaps give him a goodbye kiss. She didn't even know when she would see him again today, besides at meals.

Hermione sighed. No use in pouting about it now. She turned onto her back, looking for Crookshanks, and was nearly startled out of her wits when she saw that Severus was very much there. She grinned at him without hesitation. He looked so good in her bed she almost lunged across the space between them and kissed him as a reward.

"Well, hi," she said instead, still smiling.

He frowned a bit. "You're not a morning person, are you?" he asked sourly.

Hermione laughed. "Normally, no. But yes, when I wake up and you're still here. I thought you'd already be gone."

"I should be," Severus said simply, but he didn't move.

She smiled across at him and snuggled closer to her pillow, watching him contentedly. He'd removed at least three of the blankets that had been on him at the beginning of the night, and they were now lumped between them. Crookshanks was using the pile as a pillow near the end of the bed, lying flat out on his back, as he did sometimes for no reason.

"How did you sleep?" she asked interestedly.

"Not well, thanks to your cat." He sneered, gesturing to Crookshanks. "The creature despises me."

Hermione chuckled, leaning down to rub the Kneazle's belly. He purred in his sleep, kneading his paws in the air.

"He doesn't hate you," she assured him. "He just…isn't used to you."

She smiled at him again as she lay back against her pillow. Severus looked like he didn't believe her, but he didn't protest. He arched his brow at Crookshanks instead.

"Well…even if he does not, he is certainly an odd cat," he observed.

"That's part of what I love about him," Hermione said happily, watching the sleeping Kneazle. "He's not like any other animal I've ever met, even other cats. And he's the grumpiest creature you ever met."

"You find that quality attractive?" he inquired, sounding mildly surprised.

She turned her smile on to him, blushing a little when she said, "Well, obviously."

Severus smirked and gazed up at the ceiling, looking pleased with himself. Hermione sighed contentedly, pleased beyond belief that he was there with her at last. It was almost too good to be true. She chuckled to herself and he eyed her.

"What?"

She hid her grin behind her blankets. "Well, it's just…who would've ever imagined it? Severus Snape, in bed with a Gryffindor. You must be horribly disgusted with yourself right now," she teased.

Severus' lips twitched. "Indeed. In fact, I intend to Obliviate myself immediately upon my escape."

She beamed at him, but soon discovered that his gaze was south of her eyes. She waited for a breathless moment until he crossed the gap between them and kissed her, gently at first, then steadily more demandingly. He was busy deepening it, stroking her cheek with his thumb, when she realized something.

She bounded out of bed, startling Crookshanks awake. She hurried to her armoire as she spoke, missing both Crookshanks and Severus' displeased looks.

"We have to go!" she said urgently. "It's almost time for breakfast, and I have to take a shower and you have to go back to your quarters so you can get ready and—"

"Hermione," he cut in, wiping his mouth.

She froze as she was taking a shirt out of the armoire. "What?"

"Just for future reference, should I expect you to do that frequently, or only when breakfast is at stake?" he inquired, arching a brow.

Hermione sagged and hung up the shirt. "I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, climbing back onto the bed. "I guess I just got a little…frenzied."

"Indeed," he agreed, rubbing her arm as she bent down to kiss him apologetically.

Severus asked for entrance almost immediately this time, which she eagerly gave to him. He lay back, removing weight from his elbow, and pulled her down with him until she was half-draped across his chest. Soon she was caught up in his kiss again, smoothing her hand over his side and getting lost in the sensations he inevitably aroused in her.

It was only when she heard Crookshanks leap off the bed that she realized she was allowing him to distract her again. She rose up slowly, breaking off the kiss more gently this time, but he captured her lips again easily.

"Mm. No, no," she protested weakly, between kisses. "We—have to—go. We really—really do."

He ignored her in favor of tasting her lips and exploring the curve of her shoulder blade with his hands. Hermione pulled up every last bit of self-discipline she had and broke away, returning to the armoire. Severus sighed.

"And…she's off," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, even as she started gathering clothes. "But you have to teach, and I have to go to Arithmancy."

He grumbled to himself as he slid out of bed, and she smiled to herself when he began making the bed.

"Honestly, you'd think _you_ were the one who had to wait seven years," she teased, grinning when he looked up at her.

He smirked and went back to tucking her sheets under the edge of the mattress. Crookshanks busied himself in the corner, cleaning what she was sure was an extremely dirty spot on his paw. She went to lay her clothes on her desk chair, pausing when she realized he might still be there by the time she got out of the shower. And she didn't know if they were quite ready for 'naked with a towel on' interactions yet.

Hermione leaned in the doorway of the lav, shifting uncomfortably for a moment.

"Can you use the Floo to go back to your quarters?"

He glanced up at her. "Not as yet. My Floo is only connected to the headmaster's office and a few other necessary points, which I will be remedying in the near future."

She smiled, pleased. "Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you tonight?"

Severus stood up straight and nodded, but he was scowling. She panicked for a moment, wondering if she'd upset him, but she noticed at that moment that it was a slightly different scowl than usual. It wasn't quite as deep, for one thing, and his lips were more pursed. She gaped.

"Are you _pouting_?" she inquired, aghast.

"No," he snapped, shifting.

Hermione grinned. "You lie. Our deal was that you would tell me when I'm right. How can I possibly play with you if you won't play by the rules?" she teased.

"I am not pouting," he protested, scowling for real now. "I am…displeased."

She smirked. "All right, fine. You're displeased. How about this, then? I'll cut out of breakfast a little early and come and see you before classes."

Severus dipped his head. "That would be fine."

"Fine," she said mock-grumpily. "I'm going to shower now."

He nodded again and she beckoned Crookshanks, who bounded into the lavatory after her with his tail held high.

* * *

"Good morning," Hermione said as calmly as she possibly could when she slid into the spot next to Ginny.

It had taken an effort not to repeat her boisterous greeting from the morning after finding out Severus had feelings for her. They'd suspect something was up if she betrayed herself, so she put her Occlumency lessons into practice and maintained a calm façade. Which was more difficult than she cared to admit.

"Hey, 'Mione," Ron replied, too involved in his food to say much more than that.

"Hey, Draco knew a lot about Marius," Ginny said immediately. "But he says if you need more information, he'll write his mother about it. Apparently Marius went to Durmstrang and studied Herbology there. He's actually a full-fledged Botanist."

"Yes, he was listed as a Botanist in the _Famous Herbologists_ book," Hermione told them. "It said his classmates used to joke that he was a plant-whisperer."

"Not surprising, since he managed to charm that African Strangler," Neville commented. "Those are really hard to handle, and one of the hardest to affect with magic. Professor Sprout says they're illegal to import to the United Kingdom."

"Well, Uncle Larry clearly isn't too concerned with rules," Ginny replied, frowning.

"Obviously," Harry said, shaking his head. "Oh, I brought you this, Hermione. I didn't want Flitwick to catch me giving it to you yesterday."

Hermione tucked the Marauder's Map in her bag quickly and thanked him, inwardly convincing herself that if he'd looked at it last night, he'd say something.

"Is there anything else important Draco said?" she asked Ginny after a moment of eating in silence.

"Well, he doesn't know exactly where he lives, but he said he could find out from his mum," Ginny replied, thinking hard. "He did say that Africa is where he apprenticed and studied to become a Botanist."

"So…either he's had that seed this entire time, or his master or a friend he made there sent it to him," Hermione concluded, frowning in thought.

"You're glowing," Ron said suddenly.

She started and exchanged glances with her equally confused friends.

"What?" she asked, brow furrowing.

"You're glowing," he repeated.

"I think what Hermione is trying to ask is…'What the bloody hell are you talking about?'" Harry amended.

"You look all happy and radiant," Ron explained. "Right, Lavender?"

"What's that, Won-won?" she asked, leaping from her conversation with Parvati to their conversation.

"Isn't Hermione glowing?" he prompted.

"Oh, yeah. Are you wearing make-up?" Lavender asked curiously, peering at her closely.

Hermione stared at them. "No."

"Oh. Well, you still look really nice today," she said, smiling, and then went back to talking to Parvati.

Hermione glanced at the three sane people surrounding her and Harry shook his head, going back to eating. Neville just shrugged, and Ginny said, "Don't look at me. I learned to accept that they're insane a long time ago."

* * *

Hermione managed to slip out of the Great Hall a bit early, using the excuse that she'd forgotten one of her books back in her quarters, and trotted up to Severus' classroom. When she knocked, he called for her to enter and she came bouncing in, carefully shutting the door behind her. She silently cast a ward to alert her if anyone was coming and smiled when she turned about to find him watching her with glittering eyes.

"Hi," she said quietly, flashing a grin at him.

"Hello," he replied, just as lowly.

"How was your breakfast?" she asked, venturing a little closer.

He shrugged gracefully. "Well enough. Yours?"

"It was okay, I guess." She fiddled with the strap of her backpack. "Ginny says Draco is going to find out where Marius lives for us. An-and we should apparently be on the lookout for plants. He's a Botanist, and a very good one, evidently."

Severus dipped his head. "The headmaster is bringing in Ministry officials to remove the plant and protect Mr. Nott, who experienced another blackout two nights ago."

"Then I guess it's safe to say he's how Marius is getting in and out," she replied, sighing heavily.

"Indeed. From what Professor Dumbledore knows, the Aurors assigned to the case will be Ms. Tonks and Mr. Shacklebolt," he informed her, scowling. "They should prove to be fairly easy for you to work with."

Hermione smiled. "Right. Old friends and all."

Silence fell heavily between them and Hermione shifted uncomfortably, wishing he would say something. Other than 'Dumbledore says.' It was good that Dumbledore was finally bringing in the Ministry to deal with this—Scrimgeour was more competent than Fudge, after all—but it was nicer when it felt like she and Severus were working on this together.

"Why was this so much easier this morning?" she asked softly, blushing when he met her gaze.

He simply stared for a moment, then shifted and held out a hand for her, stepping around his desk. She took the offered hand and he tugged her closer, until they were almost touching. He caressed her hair away from her cheek and she leaned into his touch involuntarily.

"This is new for both of us," Severus assured her lowly. "It will take time to accustom ourselves to…."

"Being allowed to stand within more than two feet of each other?" she offered, smiling when he smirked.

"Yes," he said, running his fingers lightly over the line of her jaw.

She shivered when a tingle went up her spine, and he released the hand he was still holding, pulling her closer to him. He hunched down, bending to kiss her, and she pushed herself up on her toes to meet him. After a little while of snogging on her tiptoes, however, they started to hurt. She gently broke the kiss and eased back down onto her heels, smirking up at him.

"You know what? I just now realized how incredibly tall you are," she told him sagely.

He smirked. "Really?"

"Yes. Hold on," she said, holding up a finger and breaking from his embrace.

"Where are you going?" he inquired, looking puzzled.

"Just a second," she called back.

She returned with a small stepladder, which had been next to the supply closet. She set it in front of him and stepped up onto the second step, only to be stunned to find that Severus was actually laughing. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a deep, throaty chuckle, at the end of which he smirked at her and stroked her cheek, kissing her again.

Just as they met again after a breather, Hermione felt the hair on the back of her neck raise, warning her of approaching people. She pulled back and stood up straight, mock-glowering at him as the door burst open.

"And this is _exactly_ how it feels when you tower over people like that!" she blurted, putting her hands on her hips.

Severus' lips were twitching and she knew he wanted to laugh. She fought one of her own, keeping her face as composed as she could.

"Intimidation is among the many skills you do not possess, you silly girl," Severus said disgustedly. "Now, as you see, I have a class to teach," he added, waving a dismissive hand.

Hermione stepped down and folded up the ladder, leaning it against his desk. She picked up her bag from where she'd dropped it and tossed her hair angrily at him, stomping past the third years who'd just entered. They stared at her with wide eyes as she passed, and she smiled to herself when she heard Severus start berating them for entering without his permission.

* * *

Hermione was in the midst of helping Septima's advanced students later that day when she noticed Draco glancing at her repeatedly. Normally, he didn't need any help, and even when he did, he was loath to raise his hand and admit to needing the assistance. She wandered over to his side of the room and caught his gaze, at which point he perked up and waved her over frantically. Amused, she made her way over and leaned down next to him.

"What's up?" she asked, looking over his parchment.

"Shh!" he whispered immediately, glancing around them.

Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling and Draco sighed, fidgeting a bit.

"I need…your help," he muttered eventually.

"With?" she prompted.

"Shh!" He glared at her briefly. "I need to know something. About the rules."

Hermione's brow knit. "The rules?"

"Yes, the rules," he murmured uncomfortably, squirming in his chair.

"Draco, you're going to have to be more specific," she said at length, heaving a sigh. "Are we talking about Ministry laws, the rules between men and women, or like…the rules of Quidditch? Which is it?"

He waved his hand, shaking his head. "Hogwarts rules."

"Okay," she said uncertainly.

He sighed. "If you don't know, would you mind looking it up for me?"

"Draco, I can't look anything up if you don't ask me already," she replied, a little exasperated.

He huffed this time and fiddled with his quill. On a regular day, she'd be threatening to leave if he didn't stop wasting her time, but she was feeling lenient for some reason. She found it a little amusing, even, that he was having such a difficult time asking her for a favor. Even if it was a bit irritating that he was taking forever about it.

"Fine," he grumbled at last, adjusting in his chair to face her more directly. "I need to know what Hogwarts' rules are about…about students."

Hermione waited, but he didn't say anything else.

"That covers _a lot_, Draco," she informed him flatly.

"Shh!" he hissed again. "I-I meant rules about students…proposing to one another."

Her eyes widened. "Are you proposing to—"

"SHHH!" he exclaimed.

A few students glanced up in annoyance and Septima looked up from helping a student, frowning. Hermione smiled briefly at the professor, who returned it and went back to the Ravenclaw's paper. Hermione breathed a sigh and turned back to Draco, gaping at him.

"You're proposing to Ginny?" she whispered at last.

His ears went pink. "Yes. But you can't tell anyone, all right?!"

"What about—" She cut herself off and took a breath. "Sure, okay. I won't tell anyone."

"This is just between us, right?" Draco demanded, frowning up at her. "If _anyone_ finds out, it could get back to Ginny faster than a Snitch. And I want it to be a surprise."

"Mum's the word," she assured him, patting his shoulder. "I don't know off the top of my head, but I can look it up later."

He sighed in relief. "Thanks, Hermione." His look turned mischievous. "I knew I could count on your love for sneaking, Ms. Slytherin."

She smirked. "How do you know it isn't Gryffindor honor pulling me to do the right thing?"

Draco grinned devilishly. "Nah. I know your wicked ways."

Hermione chuckled and he bumped shoulders with her. She patted him again and went off to help a student whose hand was up. Ginny was going to get engaged. She felt a rush of excitement for her friend. She could hardly believe things were going well for all of her friends at the same exact time—and for her.

Ron and Lavender were better than ever. Neville seemed to be getting quite close with Hannah lately. Harry and Luna were happier than she'd ever seen them—he was even talking about meeting her father over the summer. Draco was going to propose to Ginny. And she wasn't certain about this hunch, but she'd seen Asher sitting with Jessica at lunch.

It had never really occurred to Hermione to observe Asher's eating habits before, but now that she thought about it, he seemed to eat with Jessica quite often. And the other day, his excuse had been that he had to help Jessica with something. Maybe there was something there.

Hermione fought a grin. And, best of all, she had an evening of Severus to look forward to.

* * *

Hermione got into her nightgown immediately upon entering her bedroom. She didn't know what time Severus would arrive, since he'd never made his entrance known before, so she figured it was safest to change right away. If she sat and waited for him, she'd go mad, so instead she sat her desk and spread the Marauder's Map out on her left. She glanced over it once, but Marius was no where to be seen, and Nott was safe in the Slytherin dormitories.

It occurred to her a moment later that she could check to see where Severus was, but that wasn't her purpose in borrowing it, so she resisted the urge. Instead, Hermione got out her quill and ink, along with the _Prophet_ for today and some old clippings from it. She opened up to the section which held advertisements for openings at different companies and began scanning it, circling the most appealing options.

Like the last few papers, there weren't many good prospects, although she found a few for her friends, which she circled, but turned the ink a shade of light blue. Next, she looked over the old clippings and placed a mark next to the companies that replied to her inquiries. Most had replied with regrets that they'd filled the position already, but they promised to let her know if another opening came up.

Hermione didn't expect much at this stage, anyway, since she still had a couple of months before the end of her training. Still, as she'd told Harry and Ron over dinner, it was always good to look. Harry insisted that she didn't need to be taking on her projects along with job searching, but she assured him the search was an idle occupation. For now.

Presently, she put away the old clippings and pulled out a new piece of parchment. She sniffed a whiff of it happily and set it on the table, beginning a draft to write to a charms factory. Crookshanks leapt up on the desk next to her and she scratched his head absently, glancing once at the Marauder's Map again. She sighed.

"No Marius," she told Crookshanks, who purred sympathetically. "I wish he were a stupid insane man out for vengeance. Not a smart insane man."

Crookshanks blinked at her affectionately and she rubbed his chin, then went back to writing. It was nine thirty when she started on the last letter she had to write, and she was so deep in concentration that she didn't notice the door swinging further open. Crookshanks tensed next to her, so she stroked him once.

"Evening," Severus announced himself.

Hermione whirled about in her chair and greeted him with a bright smile. He stood just inside the door, hands clasped behind him, and looking more uncertain than she'd ever seen him. She understood the feeling. Last night had been easier only because it was impulsive, and the mood was already set. They weren't sure how to approach it now.

But as he'd said earlier, it would take time, but they would get used to it. She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Hi. How was the rest of your day?" she asked cheerfully. "Did you take the Floo?"

Severus ventured closer, shrugging gracefully again. "Yes, and well enough. And yours?"

She felt her cheeks go warm when she replied, "Better than ever."

His lips twitched as though he wanted to smile, but instead he only stepped closer. Crookshanks made a grumbling noise and leapt down from her desk to go eat. Severus sneered at the retreating cat and nodded toward Hermione's desk.

"What are you up to?" he inquired, sounding truly interested.

"Oh, just inquiries about jobs listed in the _Prophet_," she replied, shrugging as she turned back about.

"You are searching already?" he asked, although he actually didn't sound all that surprised.

"Mum always told me, 'the sooner the better,'" she said absently. "Besides, like I told you last night: you should never waste time."

Severus dipped his head. "What careers are you looking into?"

He began stalking the room, looking around it for real, she supposed. He'd only ever gotten to see it while it was dark, after all, and that morning. But it wasn't as though he hung around to examine her tapestries.

She smiled after him and went back to writing. "Mostly Transfiguration and Arithmancy-related. Charms is a viable option, but truly I'd rather try one of the other two."

"Why did you apprentice in it?"

"I'm voracious for knowledge," Hermione answered truthfully.

There was a hint of amusement in his voice when he commented, "And yet you refused Herbology and Potions apprenticeships."

"I still hope to take them someday," she assured him. "But they aren't involved with the direction I want to head in with my career, so I'm putting off Herbology, possibly permanently. Potions…indefinitely." She glanced up to catch him shooting her a questioning look. "I had two reasons for not apprenticing in Potions. One is Professor Slughorn," she explained shortly, turning back to the parchment.

"And the other?" he purred.

"You," she said simply. "It would've been a tad awkward. For me, anyway."

Severus made an amused noise and went back to examining her room. Hermione signed the parchment and cast a drying charm, then picked up the Marauder's Map to glance over once more.

"That belongs to Potter," Severus hissed dangerously from behind her.

She stood, folding it and nodding. "He's loaning it to me while Marius is still after us. Really, he never used it unless absolutely necessary, and it is terribly useful at times like these."

She spread it out and held it out for him to look at, trusting that he wouldn't insist on confiscating it. That would buy him a ticket to sleeping on the couch faster than you could say 'Slytherin.' She almost smirked in amusement at the thought that she could banish him to the couch now. Like a wife. Not that she would, but still. It was nice to know she had the option.

"Marius hasn't shown up," she observed, frowning. "And Nott has been smart enough to stay in his rooms."

"About time the boy figured it out," Severus growled irritably.

Hermione folded the map again and tapped it with her wand, saying lightly, "Mischief managed." Severus eyed it with interest, but said nothing. She smiled and offered it up to him. His brow arched curiously.

"You can look it over if you like," she assured him. "Just as long as you intend to let me give it back to Harry. After all, there's very little point in taking it away from him now that there's less than three months left of school."

He frowned, taking it slowly from her, and nodded. "Indeed."

Hermione smiled again. "To use it, just say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'," and she moved past him to Crookshanks' litter box.

While she set her cat up for the evening with fresh litter, food, and water, Severus sat at her desk with the map and examined it thoroughly, apparently greatly interested with it. She couldn't blame him—it was rather fascinating, if a bit dangerous. Not to use, of course, but she'd often worried while Voldemort was still alive that one of his Death Eaters would somehow get a hold of it and figure out how to use it.

Eventually, Severus set the blank map down on her desk and strode to her bed with his hands clasped behind him again, as though waiting for her. Hermione tidied up her desk, organizing what would need to be owled in a neat stack next to her Transfigurations book. She slid the map into her desk drawer, along with the newspaper clippings, and tidied up the rest of the desk shortly afterward.

"Your notes on the elements are rather extensive," Severus observed.

She nodded. "I had to learn all I could about their properties in order to do my final projects."

"Which are?" he inquired quietly.

She smiled, pleased that he was so interested. And that he wasn't using Legilimency on her to find all this out.

"Well, for Charms, I had to create a new spell," Hermione explained eagerly. "Which was fairly simple, once I figured out what I wanted to do. It's not a particularly difficult spell, and people will hardly ever have need to use it, but it helps to make charmed objects seem more real by giving them the illusion of making sound. For example."

She picked up her wand again and strode to her nightstand, picking up the small toy horse she'd been practicing on. She set it on the desk and pointed her wand at it, performing the normal spell for making it 'come to life.' Then she cleared her throat and said clearly, "_Vitasalvus_." The little horse began to whinny as it trotted about on her desk, and she smiled in relief.

Severus nodded his approval when she looked at him.

"Inventive," he observed, which was extremely high praise coming from him.

"Like I said, there won't be much use for it," Hermione allowed, still beaming. "But it will be entertaining for children, at least." She ended the charms and the horse went stiff. "Arithmancy was predicting a future event, which I'm nearly finished with. And for Transfigurations I actually have two projects," she explained as she put the horse away again.

Severus was watching her intently, with that peculiar expression that sent tingles up and down her spine. She fought a smile. Now that she'd figured out what that enigmatic look meant, it was difficult not to. The problem was what to do about it. She could make a move, or she could keep talking. It was lovely feeling his gaze rove over her body, giving it heat and priming her for his kiss. Besides, she liked wearing him down. So she kept talking while Crookshanks rubbed against her legs.

"I haven't quite succeeded with either yet," Hermione explained, feigning obliviousness to the way he was eyeing her nightgown. "One is my Animagus form, which so far has only given me brown fur for about ten seconds on each arm. The other is inventing a new spell, and I'm trying something more difficult than what I did for Charms—I'm trying to transfigure the elements. I've succeeded in turning a plant into water, but not vice versa. I've attempted fire transfigurations a couple of times, but so far it hasn't worked. I'm doing some more calculations to see what I can change, although McGonagall told me that plant-to-water and water-to-plant will be enough, so I don't have to rush that particular part.

"If you would take a look at them some time…" she said slowly, uncertain.

Severus dipped his head. "As you wish."

Hermione smiled up at him again, wishing he would stop looking now and just kiss her. It didn't matter that they'd snogged twice today—she wanted more. Her knees wobbled a little just thinking about how wonderfully delicious his mouth was. She was already so addicted to his kisses and the way his tongue massaged hers that she was wondering why she'd ever loved Amortentia so much. Now it seemed like the warm-up practice before a grand symphony. Or a rehearsal before the opening night. Or the two-page manual before the 500-page textbook.

She was getting herself worked up, so she shook it off and met his eyes, coming back to reality. Rather than looking at her with that intense concentration as he had been before, he was frowning. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say.

"We still need to discuss when—and what—we will tell Minerva," he said at last.

She was right. She didn't like that. Thinking about McGonagall was not kissing. And it definitely did nothing to keep her blood pumping and her body hot. She sighed, disappointed, and focused on that thought. They did still have to tell McGonagall about their newfound relationship. Well, they lived in the same castle, so that shouldn't be too hard.

Crookshanks rubbed against her legs again and she nearly leapt in the air, startled. She scooped him off the floor, ignoring the displeased scowl on Severus' face. If he was allowed to disappoint her with talk of McGonagall, she was allowed to disappoint him by cuddling a cat instead of him. She stroked Crookshanks' head and he purred, smiling smugly.

"Can we talk about it in bed?" Hermione inquired, edging toward it.

Severus' lips twitched and he dipped his head. "Certainly."

She nodded and set Crookshanks on the end of the bed, stepping around to her side and flinging the blankets aside. While she was getting comfortable, Severus sat on the edge of his side and removed his boots. To her puzzlement, he then slid under the covers with her. He hadn't even taken off his socks. Before she could wonder about it, Severus was speaking again.

"When would you like to inform Minerva of our new…circumstances?" he asked carefully, looking down at her from where he leaned on his elbow.

She bit her lip in thought and adjusted her blankets again, scooting a little closer in the process.

"Tomorrow I have all three of my masters," she thought aloud. "The morning and evening are really the only times I can spare, unless you'd rather I told her after breakfast."

Severus shook his head sharply. "There is no telling what her reaction will be. We will tell her together."

She offered a small smile and crept a bit closer, relieved that he didn't seem to notice.

"The morning may not allow sufficient time to speak with her and explain our reasons for secrecy," he said at last, frowning. "And the evening is unappealing for reasons of its own."

"Then…when do you suggest we tell her? Friday presents a similar problem, even without our practice sessions," Hermione replied.

He eyed her sharply. "Without?"

"Well…I didn't know if you would still consider it appropriate to do our practice sessions," she said, feeling a little sheepish now.

"Ceasing them might arouse suspicion, and I am not tutoring you," he retorted, scowling.

She couldn't help but smile at him, though she hid it under the blankets. Severus eyed her once more before returning to the subject at hand.

"What are your Saturday plans?" he inquired, arching a brow.

She shrugged. "I don't have any, other than working on my final projects."

"Then Saturday, after breakfast, will do," he said decisively. "If that is agreeable to you."

Hermione nodded and Severus let out a breath, as though a weight had been lifted off of him. He scowled at her, but not angrily, nor in his pouting way. It was different, though. Almost…affectionate, like he didn't really mean it.

"Now, will you stop your shifting and get yourself over here?" he snapped, in that same, nearly fond way.

It made her smile—though she was also blushing from embarrassment at being caught, and she lifted the blankets, scurrying against his side. The sensation of their bodies so close together made her feel unaccountably shy, yet again. And, yet again, she wished she didn't feel so awkward. She comforted herself with his words from earlier—it would just take time. They would get used to it.

Hermione smiled fondly up at him while he tucked the blankets over her and scooted down in bed next to her. He shot a glare at Crookshanks, who was attacking his feet as they moved under the plethora of blankets, but Severus' attention soon returned to her. He reached out a hand slowly and caressed her cheek gently, every move as cautious as hers. She wanted to reach for him, but she felt as self-conscious as he looked.

And then she wondered…why were they nervous? They were together now and she was in love with him. He wanted her. The simple answer was, of course, that this was unfamiliar territory, and they should take it slow anyway. _But he should know that he can touch me_, she thought exasperatedly.

On impulse, Hermione put her hand to the back of his neck and kissed him fervently, though she kept tongues out this time. To her relief, he kissed her back, sliding his arm under hers and rubbing her side, setting her even more aflame. She pulled back when she felt moist between the legs for the third time that day. She blushed and started to lower herself to the pillow.

"Good night, Severus," she said quietly.

"Good night, Hermione," he replied, sounding amused.

She smiled sheepishly and went to roll out of the arc of his arm, but he snatched her and kissed her fiercely again, seeming confident now that she'd reaffirmed her affections for him with her reckless move. When he'd finished kissing the daylights out of her, he kept her wrapped in his embrace and she burrowed closer to him, inhaling his scent and sighing happily as she dozed off. Finally.

* * *

The next morning was much the same as the last, except Hermione experienced the pleasant sensation of waking up with Severus wrapped around her. Upon waking, they snogged for several minutes before she reminded him that they still had lives to attend to, and they reluctantly went about their daily business. The Transfigurations classroom wasn't as close to the DADA room as Arithmancy was, so she didn't cut out of breakfast early again.

Ron was now convinced that something had changed either in Hermione's life or beauty care products, because she "just looked happier." Which was, of course, true, but she couldn't tell him that. She informed Draco that she would look up what he asked her to on Friday, since she didn't have any time on Thursdays, and then she went off to Transfigurations. Helping her masters out helped distracted her from the disturbing thought that she and Severus had only snogged once today.

Of course, they did that evening. After she asked about his day and he said, "Well enough" again, and he asked about hers and she explained her frustrations with some of the Charms students. Severus listened just as intently and soothingly as always, as she would've done for him if he would say more than, "Well enough." She didn't want to push, of course—he would start trusting in her and telling her in his own time. And if he didn't, well…maybe he didn't have anything to complain about. Either way, she didn't truly mind the short answer. It was just in his nature.

After that, they went to bed and snogged again, and she felt for the seventh time that lush fire that burned within her every single time their lips touched. She'd never been more excited in her life, or for such a long time. Her morning shower became a blessing the next morning after they woke up together again.

And throughout the day, even when she sat with Harry and Ron in the Great Hall before their Herbology class, Hermione felt a little spurt of excitement every time she thought of Severus. Which wasn't unusual—even before Tuesday night, she'd felt something similar. But now it was stronger, which she honestly hadn't known was possible, and she missed him constantly.

It was such a joy to see him that evening at exactly nine thirty once again, that they nearly didn't get to talking. She kissed him as soon as he entered, pulling back almost immediately to blush and be embarrassed at her forwardness. But, once again, Severus wouldn't let her retreat. He assured her of his affections by pulling her back against him and kissing her senseless.

Eventually, they came up for air and Hermione managed to regain enough of her bearings to ask him how his day was, at which point he chuckled at her and they spent almost the entirety of the evening talking, like they did on New Year's Eve and all those nights last year.

Sleeping together was becoming more comfortable, Hermione noticed as they settled down to sleep that night. She didn't feel as awkward when she was pressed up against him, and it felt natural to fit herself to the curve of his lean body. And it was starting to startle and embarrass them less and less when she accidentally bumped into his arousal.

Severus still didn't take off anything more than his boots when he got into bed with her, but Hermione now wasn't sure if it was wise to ask him about it. Crookshanks still attacked Severus' feet and wouldn't let him sleep occasionally, so Hermione made a point of shooing the cat off of Severus' side of the bed. She also had to assure Severus repeatedly that Crookshanks would get used to him—because he had to.

Severus appeared at nine thirty every night, so Hermione got into her nightgown at nine twenty, and she stopped taking baths in the evening. All of that would just create more confusion and rushing than they needed. They were taking it nice and slow, and it was nice.

Even though she felt a little guiltier every day for not telling her friends. She tried to focus on how happy she'd become in the three days since they'd decided to be together, but it was difficult. Her friends should be sharing in her joy.

Harry should be congratulating her in his quiet, supportive way; Ginny should be begging for details and helping her understand the ways of men; Ron should be making jokes about how difficult it must be for them to snog with a nose that big in their way and automatically starting an argument that would last until she made him admit that Severus' nose was not that large. Or until one of them said something ridiculous and the argument suddenly ended in a bout of laughter.

She understood why Severus didn't want them to know. After all, even if Lavender _did_ keep it to herself, seven people would know. Seven was a lot. Especially with Lavender in the mix. Hermione did trust her. Lavender was a good friend, when it came down to it, but she just couldn't be quiet about this sort of thing. And then the other six all had the potential to spill it by accident, although Luna was admittedly less likely to do so than anyone Hermione knew.

She even (sort of) understood why Severus wanted to keep things under wraps. If they openly dated, the ruckus caused would be tremendous. She wasn't afraid of any discrimination when applying for jobs or of people talking about her behind her back. But she knew Severus was, and she could even see his point about how people could twist it so it seemed like it was worse than it was.

Which was how she'd gotten the idea to look up that bit of information to put Severus' mind more at ease when she was looking up rules about students for Draco. Even if she found what she was looking for, it wasn't likely that Severus would change his mind, but he would be less wary of people finding out.

And she wanted to tell her friends, even though she understood his reasoning. Her friends, who were so supportive of her. She'd kept secrets from them before, but none like this.

Hermione sighed and shifted in bed, adjusting the blanket under her arm. She'd taken off two of the blankets since Severus started sleeping with her. She simply got too warm with the addition of his body next to hers, so the extra two were no longer necessary.

"What's wrong?" the deep voice rumbled from behind her.

She smiled lightly, shaking her head. "Nothing."

Which wasn't technically true, but she didn't feel it was fair to bother him with it when they were just about to go to sleep. Besides, they'd talked about it once and it wasn't necessary to rehash it. They would tell her friends first when they started telling people, and that should be good enough. He'd compromised, which was awfully big of him considering how much he hated her friends.

And they could talk about how they hadn't seen or heard of Marius in the morning, on the way to tell McGonagall. She wondered briefly what they would say to her and what she would think. Would she be happy for them? It seemed like she would be, but….

Hermione turned her thoughts back to silent, absent Marius. She hadn't seen him on the Marauder's Map once. It was starting to bother her. She knew he was probably biding his time, but she couldn't stand waiting for something to happen to Severus. And she wasn't too keen on the idea of being strangled by another plant.

Severus' hand moved over her shoulder, but slowly, hesitantly. It still amazed her how explorative they could be of one another when they were snogging, but how like Puritans they were the rest of the time. It would just take time, she told herself again. They would get comfortable.

"Tell me," he ordered quietly, moving his hand down her arm and gradually rubbing up and down her bare skin.

She sighed. "It's nothing we can't discuss another time," she said, burrowing into her pillow.

"Hermione," Severus said lowly, almost warning. "Must I remind you of your own words yet again?"

She smiled, because he was teasing her a little. Of course, she'd told him she would tell him anything if he asked, so that's what he expected. No delays, no excuses. She turned over, pulling the blanket over her cold skin and resettling. The hand that had rested on her arm slid across her back as she moved and came to a rest on the opposite arm, whereupon he resumed rubbing her gently. _Progress_, she thought happily.

"No, you musn't," she teased back, smiling at him. "I was just thinking about…everything that's been going on."

Severus dipped his head, indicating that he was listening.

"With Marius and McGonagall and…my friends," she elaborated, sighing with the word 'friends.'

"What is happening with your friends?" he asked, arching a brow. "I was under the impression that all was well with Draco's plans for Miss Weasley."

There was another reason she felt guilty—she probably shouldn't have told Severus about Draco's proposal to Ginny. But she'd always wanted to tell him _everything_ and now she could. She'd just been so excited she couldn't help herself. Besides, he wouldn't tell anyone.

"No, that's all fine," she assured him, sighing. "It's just…I feel…guilty."

The movement of his hand paused, but quickly resumed once he'd registered her words.

"About?" he prompted, watching her intently.

"Us," Hermione admitted, blushing when his hand paused again. "And not because I'm not happy with you or because I'm ashamed of you. I'm happier than I've ever been, and I love you," she blurted. She went beet red.

Severus knew she loved him—he knew it. But this was the first time she'd ever said those three words consecutively, to him. They hadn't even really addressed it when they were arguing about whether or not they should be together. And she'd just put it out there. She felt vulnerable now.

But then he only dipped his head, and his hand never stopped moving. In fact, if anything, the pressure became heavier, more confident. Hermione took a breath, elated that he hadn't rejected her proclamation.

"It's just that…I feel guilty for not telling them about us," she finished, only half-listening to what she was saying.

Severus considered that. "You have kept secrets from them before. Or that is my impression."

"Yes, secrets I was ashamed of, or thought they would judge me for," she replied, sighing. "It was different when I hadn't completely accepted that I loved you, and they didn't have a clue. Now…even Ron doesn't mind, as long as I don't get 'too swoony', as he puts it."

"You yourself admitted it would be too risky to allow that many people to know," he prompted, obviously looking to get to the root of the issue, "even if they are supportive."

"I know I did, but…I guess I'm just used to my friends' support, in everything I do," Hermione said at last, sagging into the pillow. "I mean, Harry drives me nuts because he's overprotective, and Ron has to argue with me at every turn. Ginny can't shut up when she gets excited about something. Neville tries to help in all the wrong ways, and Draco is sarcastic and not helpful at all. And Luna doesn't really offer up much but glasses to show me croopers." She smiled sentimentally and sighed when she went on.

"But I love them. They care about me. Harry is the best friend I'll ever have, and Luna is quiet and calm and that helps everyone be calm, especially Harry. Ginny gets so distressed on my behalf that sometimes I think she's more upset than me. And Neville and Draco…they each make me laugh in their own ways. Ron really cares, deep down, too. It's the way we relate to each other—our arguing." She shrugged. "I know it doesn't make sense, but—"

He gripped her shoulder lightly, calling her attention. She met his eyes and he gazed at her intensely.

"I have never had this…network of support that you possess," Severus informed her seriously, and she felt a pang of sympathy go through her. "I suppose that has made it difficult for me to understand just how important your friends are to you."

She squeezed his hand on her shoulder without their usual hesitance, wanting him to know that she'd be his support, if ever he needed it.

"I would still prefer some measure of secrecy," he continued, voice even lower now. "And I…ask you to wait one month to tell them. I understand if that is not—"

Hermione hurried across the space between them, hugging him and whispering, "Thank you" over and over again, just so he would know how grateful she was for his understanding. He was so wonderful to her, she could hardly believe it. While standing in front of that mirror seven years ago, she'd thought it was so impossible, and now it was happening, it was true, and it was real.

Severus tucked his arms around her, returning her embrace a bit awkwardly, until she kissed his cheek. His arms locked around her then, tugging her close against his body, almost urgently. She wanted to kiss him more, but that same hesitance came back to give her pause. Would he be all right with it? Was it an appropriate step? Before she could decide, his strong arms gradually loosened and he pulled back to meet her gaze.

"Now…about Marius and Minerva," he said, still quiet and calm.

She nodded to assure him she was listening, but kept a hand on his chest, feeling his breaths as he inhaled and exhaled. The hand on her shoulder started rubbing again, and she felt sated by the amount of progress they'd made this evening.

"Marius is biding his time," Severus continued, frowning. "There is nothing to be done about it, except not to lower our guards. Even a month of silence means nothing."

She nodded hastily again.

"As far as Minerva goes, we will separately go to her office after breakfast and inform her then," he said steadily, calming her. "If she receives us poorly, which I can assure you is an unlikely outcome given her behavior in the past—" he sneered, as though remembering "—it will not be hard to obtain a wand oath of silence from her. Even if she is displeased, she would loath seeing you suffer for our relationship nearly as much as I."

Hermione smiled a little. "Thank you."

He arched a brow. "For?"

She went to answer, but closed her mouth again, not sure what to say. What _was_ she thanking him for? Other than being the most wonderful man on the planet. She didn't think she should say that to him, though. He'd probably scowl and tell her he wasn't wonderful and then be grumpy. And as much as she loved grumpy, she didn't like grumpy _with her_.

At last, she smirked at him.

"You know, I don't really know," she answered wryly. "Everything?"

Severus' lips twitched and she grinned at him. When they were finished smirking or chuckling to themselves, he gazed at her seriously, ignoring Crookshanks when he leapt back up onto the bed.

"Now, is your mind calm enough to rest?" he inquired, and she found herself smiling at the way he phrased it.

Harry usually put it as, "Have you relaxed enough to sleep yet?" And Ron always said, "Go to sleep, woman. You're driving me nutters." Ron's wasn't very polite, and Harry's wasn't exactly correct. Severus' was perfect; it was exactly right. Her mind needed to calm down from its worried frenzy, and then she could rest.

She nodded serenely. "Yes."

He dipped his head. "Good. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Severus," she said happily, accepting the brief, gentle kiss he pressed to her lips.

And, this time, when she closed her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.


	27. Secrets: Part Two

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this.

**A/N:** I apologize for the confusion about Severus' wardrobe at night. I will clear that up in this chapter. Also, someone asked a valid question about why they could ask Minerva to take a wand oath, but not Hermione's friends. There are a couple reasons: (a) Severus knows better than to ask Hermione to ask that of her friends, since she trusts her friends too much, unlike Severus, who has learned to trust almost no one, and (b) it isn't just about the fact that they could spill the secret. It's also about the fact that a total of seven people would be free to weigh in on and know about their relationship, which they aren't ready for yet. Thanks for all your great reviews! I love reading them.

* * *

Hermione was having another nightmare. Severus could tell, because she'd always start twitching and whimpering. He had learned during his nights with her that all he had to do was stroke her—arms, back, sides—and she would eventually calm down. It was fascinating and enjoyable, getting to know Hermione in this intimate way.

Severus frowned as he rubbed his hand over her arm. His enjoyment was greatly tempered by the thought that it would soon be over. His days with Hermione were a dream—a pleasant one, but a dream, nonetheless. She was a fantasy he could never have, and she would soon realize her mistake. Her whimpering started to fade and he lightly kissed her shoulder, as he only allowed himself to do when she was asleep.

It was difficult to keep himself from doing things that he'd long wished to do, but his self-control was as strong as ever, and he managed it. For the most part. When she kissed him, it was damn near impossible to control himself, and he often regretted his enthusiasm later on. Not because he didn't enjoy it, but because soon his dream would be over, and Hermione would leave him with the knowledge of how much he enjoyed her lips. And Severus Snape was not one to leave himself vulnerable to later attack.

Not that Hermione would ever do such a thing. She was far too sweet-tempered. Her friends, on the other hand….

Severus reached over her and tugged down his sleeve, which Hermione had accidentally pulled up while shifting in her sleep. He let his free arm rest over her side and exhaled heavily, content to stay like this, possibly forever. He wished he wouldn't have to wake up from this dream. Being with Hermione was…well, as sappy as it sounded, heavenly. Despite that damned cat.

It was the highlight of his day, coming to her quarters.

Every time, he nearly skipped the ritual of changing into lounge pants and a casual shirt just to get there sooner, to see what she was doing when he arrived.

To see what nightgown she was wearing.

To hear how her day was.

To receive her adoring smiles, and taste her lush mouth.

To talk with her, for hours on end.

He heaved a sigh and kissed the soft skin of her shoulder again, resting his chin there to watch her peaceful slumber. If only good things lasted. But, as he knew very well, they never did.

Hermione sighed and stretched, and he knew she was waking up. After a couple of bleary blinks, she rolled halfway onto her back and smiled up at him. He couldn't help but offer a smirk in return.

"I like waking up with you," she mumbled, turning to face him and snuggling against his body.

Severus obliged her, hugging her close, but said nothing. He knew she enjoyed it, as she'd said something similar twice already. Replying that he knew might make her stop saying it, though, and he wanted to hear it as often as he could before it was over. And admitting that he enjoyed waking up with her, as well, would only fuel his growing vulnerability to her.

After a moment of resting against him, Hermione lifted her head again and smiled warmly, and he couldn't stop himself. He kissed her gently, tasting her and exploring her with delight. She burrowed her fingers in his hair with one hand, the other pressing to his chest, making his heart beat all the faster. When they both needed air, Severus pulled back and sated himself with caressing her cheek and cupping her chin.

She smiled, gaze wandering down to the hand on his chest. A quizzical frown appeared on her features, as it had many times when she noticed how covered he kept himself, but this time she said something.

"Isn't it uncomfortable, wearing a button-down to sleep?" Hermione inquired curiously.

When he met her eyes with an arched brow, she blushed.

"I don't mean…I just meant…I was just—"

He kissed her forehead and she sighed with relief, beaming up at him. They kissed again, briefly this time, and she groaned when he pulled away. She rubbed her eyes and yawned sleepily.

"I don't want to go to breakfast," she moaned, burrowing under his chin.

He tucked her close and sighed. "You need to eat something," he reminded her.

"Can't we just eat here?" she asked, pouting a little. When he took a breath to answer, she cut in. "Yes, I know, we can't, because we'd have to call a house-elf and house-elves are incapable of keeping things quiet."

Hermione squeezed him once and rolled into a sitting position, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed. Severus fought the urge to pull her back down to him and give in to calling a house-elf, instead shifting out of bed as well. He began making the bed, and she went about her usual ritual of pulling clothes out of her armoire.

After breakfast they would tell Minerva. He didn't really see the point, since it wouldn't last that long anyway, but he didn't want to burst Hermione's bubble, as the saying went. She seemed so happy. Hermione cast a small grin his way and Severus soaked it in. He would take what he could get.

* * *

"Draco!" Hermione called, racing down the hall after the blond head.

He halted and glanced over his shoulder, looking puzzled until he saw her. He smiled, pausing to let her catch up, and she smiled cheerfully at him, unable to contain herself. The kiss Severus had given her before he left had her feeling giddy—almost more so than all the other times they'd kissed.

"Morning, Hermione," Draco greeted her presently. "All right?"

"Fine," she assured him, trying to catch her breath. "I just wanted to tell you…that thing you asked me about?"

His smile suddenly faded and he became anxious, wringing his hands as he ushered her aside, where no one could hear them. He leaned in, biting his lip.

"So? What'd it say?" he asked quietly.

She smiled. "You're all set."

He brightened. "Really?"

"Yes. The rule is that students are allowed to share a residence and become engaged for marriage. However, you will have to wait until Ginny is out of school to actually get married," Hermione informed him seriously.

Draco sighed, nodding. "Okay. Yeah, I-I can do that. We'll just have a long engagement."

She squeezed his arm. "I'm really happy for you."

He grinned at her. "Thanks."

She nodded once and, in doing so, caught sight of Severus, standing down the hallway. Hermione felt a little rush go through her when she saw that he was watching them and couldn't help a small smile. When he didn't react, she recalled something that Ginny and Harry had been trying to convince her of since that day in Dumbledore's office: Severus could get extremely jealous, even of her friends.

She released Draco's arm and offered a parting smile. "I'll see you later."

He nodded absently and she strode past him, trying to calculate the best way to reassure Severus without attracting any attention. Hermione covered up a smirk, casually tugging a strand of hair behind her ear, and redirected her path. Severus didn't move from where he stood, though he offered her an arched brow once as his gaze swept the throng. She flashed a grin at him, brushing close by, but halted when she heard someone calling for her attention.

"Granger!" a fourth year Gryffindor called. He was beet red when he stopped next to her.

"Yes?" she asked, as politely as possible.

His friends were huddling by a statue, giggling madly.

"Isittrueyou'reavirgin?!" he blurted.

Hermione took a breath, frowning. What on earth was this about? His friends were giggling louder now, and she narrowed her eyes at them. Boys.

She composed herself and tossed a casual glance at Severus, who was still behind her. The boy followed her gaze and went from bright red to chalky white in two seconds flat. She gave him a haughty smile, well aware that Severus was glowering at him from behind her.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I am," she said casually. "Is there anything else you'd like to ask me now?"

He paled even more and shook his head rapidly, eyes on Severus.

"N-no. Th-that was all," he stammered, and then bolted back to his friends, who were practically rolling on the ground they were laughing so hard.

Hermione glanced back at Severus.

"Thank you, sir," she said lowly.

He dipped his head. "My pleasure. If you'll excuse me, I believe Gryffindor is in need of a massive point deduction."

She fought a grin. "Of course, sir."

He nodded to her once more and let his eyes linger for a brief second before striding purposefully toward the group of boys. Hermione sighed happily and headed into the Great Hall, quite ready for her breakfast now.

Harry, Ron, and Neville greeted her with their usual cheerfulness, followed by a more subdued Ginny. Hermione wondered at that a moment, but Harry soon distracted her.

"So, the Hogsmeade trip is next Saturday," he said excitedly. "And we've all decided we're going to make up Valentine's Day to you. No ditching whatsoever."

"Promise," Ron added after a huge swallow.

Hermione chuckled. "That's sweet of you, Harry, but—"

"It was Ginny's idea," he interrupted, nodding toward the redhead.

"Well, it was sweet of you, Ginny, but really, you don't need to make it up to me," Hermione assured her.

Ginny rolled her sausage across her plate with her fork. "Okay."

She furrowed a brow. "Are you all right?"

Her shoulders bounced. "Fine."

"Are you—"

"Hermione, come on. We want to do this," Ron interrupted, seeming unconcerned with his sister's moroseness.

"I know that, but—hey, you have nothing to make up for. You weren't even there!" she reminded him, laughing.

"That's what I'm making up for," he replied, grinning.

"Please!" Neville begged. "It'll be fun! Hannah and Jessica might even come, and we'll ha—"

"Jessica? I thought you broke up." Hermione frowned in consternation.

"We did, but we're still friends," he explained. "And she and Asher might be going out soon. Or at least she hopes."

"We—"

"So he might come, too," Harry added happily. "Which means you have to come. You miss Asher, right?"

"I—"

"And if you say yes, we're going to book a room with Madam Rosmerta and have a huge party," Ron said excitedly. "It'll be a blast! Lavender's going to decorate."

Hermione made a face, but chuckled when she heard Ginny mutter, "Bring on the pink frilly tablecloths."

"Look, I really appreciate this," Hermione cut in, smiling a little. "But, first of all, it's not necessary. And second, I don't even know if I'll be going to Hogsmeade next week." She avoided their eyes, feeling a small prickling of guilt start up again.

"Not go?" Ron asked, looking shocked. "Why wouldn't you go?"

"It's Hogsmeade! It's like…tradition," Neville agreed.

"Why don't you want to go?" Harry asked, quieter than the other two.

Even Ginny was looking at Hermione now. She took a breath.

"I don't know. I was thinking of getting more practice time in," she blurted.

It worked. They all groaned and started harping on her about not working too hard, and she was able to put off addressing whether she was actually going or not by protesting. She was relieved when it came time to go up to McGonagall's office.

* * *

When Hermione arrived at the door to her master's office, she took a moment outside to brace herself. Severus was probably already inside, since he and McGonagall were gone by the time she left the Great Hall. She shook her sweaty hands and took a deep breath. Like he'd said, McGonagall wanted her to be happy, and Hermione was sure McGonagall wanted Severus to be happy, too. It would be fine.

She knocked three times and peeked inside when she heard McGonagall call for her to come in. Severus glanced over his shoulder and, though he looked extremely displeased, his expression softened the slightest bit for her. McGonagall smiled at her.

"Come in, Hermione," she encouraged. "Make yourself comfortable."

Hermione smiled once and shut the door carefully behind her, then stepped up next to Severus. She shot him a nervous glance and took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. He offered the same, slightly softened expression, but nothing more. McGonagall watched her expectantly.

"Well, what can I do for you, dear?" she asked when they were both silent.

Hermione cleared her throat, glancing at Severus again. "Well…it's not really what you can do for me, per se."

She looked puzzled, but nodded. "Yes?"

Severus let a reassuring hand rub up Hermione's back and she sighed with relief.

"Hermione and I have…decided to pursue a relationship," he said flatly, frowning the slightest bit.

McGonagall looked between them and Hermione smiled weakly, nodding to assure her it was true. Eventually, the Transfiguration professor broke into a smile.

"Well, that's wonderful," she said happily.

"Really?" Hermione blurted eagerly, glancing up at Severus.

He gave her a pinched smirk and she leaned into him a little, butterflies stirring up again. She was leaning in front of someone!

"Of course!" McGonagall exclaimed, nodding approvingly. "It's about time, is all I've got to say about it. You certainly took long enough, Severus." He rolled his eyes at her and she ignored him, continuing on. "But I think it's wonderful. I'm happy for both of you." She smiled.

"Well…thank you!" Hermione said cheerfully, grinning as she looked between them. "You can't imagine how worried we—_I_ was that you wouldn't approve."

Severus rubbed her back comfortingly, but said nothing.

"Oh, no. I've been trying to convince Severus to do this for months now," McGonagall assured her. "But…as you know, he's a bit stubborn. I'm surprised he finally broke down."

"Hermione is rather convincing," Severus purred, and Hermione blushed when she felt a tingle go through her at his words.

"Not all _that_ convincing, though, since I still haven't managed to convince him that everything would be perfectly fine if we came out to the general public," she teased, bumping her shoulder into him.

He smirked, but McGonagall was frowning.

"You're not?" she inquired warily.

"N-no," Hermione replied anxiously. "We agreed that it would be best to put it off until I complete my apprenticeships, and to tell only you until then."

McGonagall's brow furrowed, but she was looking at Severus. Her look plainly said, 'You are a moron.' It was a look she'd only ever seen McGonagall use on students who really weren't getting it—like Neville. Hermione shifted uncomfortably when Severus huffed, but rather than push her away, he slid his hand to her side and tugged her against him. She smiled shyly at McGonagall, who was shaking her head disapprovingly at him, though Hermione didn't think it was because he was hugging her.

The fluttering of wings broke the suddenly awkward silence, and Fawkes came through the window, landing gracefully on McGonagall's desk. He blinked at Hermione, tilting his head this way and that, and she took that to mean the message was for her. She lurched forward and removed the note, stroking Fawkes once. He nuzzled her hand and flew out the window, and Hermione turned her attention to the note.

She glanced between the two professors and stuffed the note in a pocket.

"I'm wanted in Professor Dumbledore's office," Hermione explained, shifting awkwardly. "Thank you again, Professor. I-I'll see you later on?"

Severus dipped his head, and McGonagall smiled at her. Hermione lingered for a moment longer, not sure whether she should hug Severus or what, and then she hurried out of the room.

* * *

"So…when did this happen?" Minerva asked as she lowered herself into a chair.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Do not pretend to be displeased, Minerva."

"But I am displeased. Why are you hiding your relationship with her?" she asked sharply.

Severus huffed. Gryffindors.

"I am not ashamed of her, if that's what you're implying," he hissed.

"Of course not. You think she should be ashamed of you," she retorted, "so I assumed that was not it. And even if your relationship were against the rules, which it's not, I assure you that Albus has no qualms with it. Which I think you already knew, so that can't be it, either."

"Have you even considered the ridicule she would face?" he snapped irritably, pacing before her. "The difficulties she would have to overcome, the—"

"Hermione is perfectly capable of overcoming many things," Minerva retorted.

"I didn't say she wasn't," he snarled, glowering at her.

"You can't protect her from everything, Severus," she said, quietly this time.

Severus grunted and continued pacing, stopping at the window this time and peering out on the grounds. It was quite a windy day. The trees of the Forbidden Forest were whipping in the wind, and the Whomping Willow was even straining against it. He sighed.

"You do know that she's not going to leave you…don't you?" Minerva prompted slowly, uncertainly.

He shot her a dark glare and she sighed resignedly.

"You can't possibly think she's another Li—"

"I don't," he cut in, quiet voice turning deadly. "Hermione is who she is, and I would not have it any other way. However, she will eventually realize what she's done. You can't deny that."

"She has already realized what she's done," Minerva retorted exasperatedly. "Did you not see how happy she looked? She loves you, Severus. For you, as I've told you before."

He spared her a glance. "Happiness fades."

Minerva was silent for a moment and he leaned his forehead against the glass briefly. Just thinking about Hermione leaving him made him ache. He wished Minerva would quit protesting so he could stop discussing it and go back to feeling warm and happy with every sweet smile Hermione gave him.

"Severus," she said softly, "whatever you do, don't push that girl away. Don't create a self-fulfilling prophecy. You'll regret it forever."

Severus heaved a sigh and shook his head. She didn't get it. It didn't matter what he did—good things did not last.

* * *

"Hey, kiddo!" Tonks exclaimed when Hermione mounted the last of the stairs on her way to Dumbledore's office.

"Tonks! Kingsley!" she replied, surprised.

Despite their frosty exchange that December, Kingsley grinned Hermione's way and patted her on the shoulder when Tonks wrapped her in a hug.

"It's so good to see you," Hermione said sincerely, pulling out of the hug. "When did you get here?"

"We arrived earlier with the Botanists who came to remove the African Strangler," Kingsley explained. "Dumbledore was just filling us in on the situation."

"Looks like we're your new bodyguards, kid," Tonks added, winking.

Hermione laughed. "Well, that's great. I would love to catch up—and I'm sure Harry and Ron will, too—but Dumbledore actually wanted to see me—"

"Actually, that won't be necessary," Kingsley interrupted, not rudely. "We're sort of the reason he called you up. Apparently we're to inform you of our decisions about security measures we're taking."

"Oh, well…great," she said, smiling. "You can walk with me and we'll find Harry and Ron."

"Cool," Tonks commented, strolling down the corridor with her.

"So how are things? What have you two been up to?" Hermione asked eagerly, glancing between them.

"Things are good," Kingsley replied. "It's been fairly quiet around the Magical Law Enforcement Department since Harry defeated You-Know-Who, but we did track down a black market seller a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, that sounds exciting."

"Remus and I are trying again," Tonks said casually.

"That's great!" Hermione enthused, grinning. "How is his job search going?"

"He has a second interview with a company that develops new brooms," she replied, smiling. "We're hopeful."

Hermione grinned. "That's fantastic."

"We think so."

"All right, so about the security measures we're taking," Kingsley cut in seriously, getting down to business. "We're putting up wards around all the entrances and the greenhouses to warn us of whoever is entering. We're going to keep an extra eye out on the Forbidden Forest, as well, in case that's how he's getting onto the grounds undetected."

Hermione nodded her understanding.

"We're also going to have a chat with your buddy Theodore Nott, and one of us is going with him for his outdoor classes," Tonks added. "No more evening walks for him, though."

"We'd also prefer it if you avoided going outside for the time being," Kingsley said cautiously, as though waiting for her to protest. "Unless one of us is with you."

"All right, I can do that," she replied, bobbing her head again. "Did Dumbledore tell you that Draco is getting Marius' address from his mother?"

"Yeah, which is why we're not going to bother trying to get a permit, going to the department that holds all the addresses at the Ministry, waiting six to eight business days for them to find it, and then trying to get a permit to search his house," Tonks replied sagely, nodding.

Hermione chuckled. "Makes sense."

"Instead we're just going to get the permit to search his home, which shouldn't be too hard now that we have evidence via the African Strangler," Kingsley explained.

"All right, so have you found anything out yet?" she asked, preparing to internalize the information to later relay to Severus.

"Nothing that you haven't already figured out, from what Dumbledore tells us," Tonks said, shaking her head. "Smarty-pants." She winked.

Kingsley smiled at his partner. "We are tracing the origins of the African Strangler, so we may possibly be able to arrest whoever brought it here."

Hermione sighed. "All right. Is there anything else you need to tell me?" she asked, pausing at the door to the Room of Requirement, where Ron and Harry were supposed to be studying.

Tonks and Kingsley exchanged a glance.

"Well…as far as security measures, one of us will be with you whenever you're not with one of your professors," Kingsley said slowly. "At night, we'll double-check wards and check your room at eight o'clock, then we'll be off to our own quarters. They aren't far from yours, so if you need anything you can come get us."

"And we'd also like to apologize for the way we treated you at Christmas," Tonks blurted, receiving a frown from Kingsley. "We didn't realize how much Draco had really changed." She glared up at him.

He sighed. "And I am also sorry for what I said about Slytherins."

"Dumbledore told us you and Snape are friends now—which I think is great: that bloke needs a friend—and that's why this Marius person is after you," Tonks said cheerfully, grinning. "Because of Lucius and all."

Hermione smiled uncomfortably. Friends. Yes, they certainly were that. She wondered how wide Tonks' eyes would be when she found out what was really going on….

"Right. Do you…have any plans for S—Professor Snape's safety?" she asked, stomach clenching at her fumble.

Kingsley eyed her curiously. "We'll be keeping an eye out for him, but I doubt he'll let us do anything more than that."

"Right," she replied, nodding. "That's true."

She sighed and passed in front of the Room of Requirement three times. The door appeared and Hermione led the two Aurors in. Harry and Ron exclaimed that they were studying and threw down their Quidditch books as quickly as possible, then grinned when they saw Tonks and Kingsley. The five spent the rest of the time before lunch catching up and talking about old times.

* * *

That evening, Crookshanks stretched his legs out and glared at the Bastard, who was sitting on the couch, reading one of Crookshanks' mistress' books. The Bastard ignored him completely, which was all the better for Crookshanks' plan.

Ever since the Bastard started sleeping in his mistress' bed, Hermione had been kicking Crookshanks out of it. Even though all he was doing was having a little fun with the jerk who had moved in on _his_ territory. The Bastard was trying to _steal_ his mum, and he wasn't supposed to do anything about it? He thought not.

The Bastard had to go. And right now was the perfect time, too. The Bastard was distracted by the book, and Hermione was upstairs in the bedroom, organizing something. When the Bastard came through the fireplace, he and Crookshanks' mum had pressed their lips together for a while and talked for a long time on the couch. Eventually, they started reading and Hermione cuddled up to the Bastard. Getting his smell all over her.

Crookshanks glared at him more intently. What did he not understand about Hermione being _his_ mistress? After a while, Hermione went upstairs and the Bastard stayed put. Crookshanks didn't know what this was about, but he was hopeful—maybe she was making him sleep on the couch.

Crookshanks extended his claws and leapt to the arm of the couch across from the Bastard. Now was the perfect time to get rid of him. He took a moment to judge the distance, pulling himself together as he prepared to lunge, tensing all the appropriate muscles. He wiggled his rump in the air in preparation and glared smugly at the unknowing jerk.

_Say goodbye to the family jewels_. With one burst of energy, Crookshanks leapt through the air and…hit the cushion.

_Damn you!_ The Bastard had stood and now climbed the stairs to join Crookshanks' mum in the bedroom, taking the book with him. Crookshanks bounded up the steps after him and watched Hermione press her lips to the Bastard's in greeting, smiling up at him. Crookshanks glared at them both.

"You all right?" Hermione asked softly.

The Bastard rubbed her arms. "Well enough."

She smiled again and put her mouth on his briefly, reaching on her tiptoes, then moved to get into bed. Crookshanks glared as the Bastard took off his boots and got into bed with her. He would get rid of him somehow.

* * *

Severus heaved a sigh. The damn cat had sprung across his stomach again, effectively waking him up for the second time that night. Severus booted him off the bed, as Hermione would've done if she'd been awake. She kept reassuring him that Crookshanks simply needed time to get used to him, but he'd _had_ time. He'd had five whole nights, not counting all the nights he'd spent on the couch. The cat simply despised him. Hermione could not be convinced of this.

Presently, she stretched out a bit, hugging her pillow and sighing. He eyed her, wondering if she was waking up, but she stopped moving and lay still. He readjusted his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, making one last attempt to sleep. Then Hermione moaned.

And not a frightened or pained moan, a soft, contented, sultry moan. Severus arched a brow and glanced over at her again, but she fell silent. He frowned, but then she did it again. He pushed off of his elbow and peered over her side to find that her eyes were, in fact, closed. This didn't sound like a nightmare, but…he stroked her arm a couple times, just in case.

She sighed and shifted her hips, legs sliding against one another under the blankets. She let out another moan and Severus blinked when he realized that the sound was making him a bit…excited. He started. She was having a dream like the one she'd had in the library a few months ago. He swallowed hard and shook her shoulder, remembering how uncomfortable she'd been when she realized he'd seen it.

Hermione didn't react at first, but after he murmured her name, she groaned and rubbed her eyes, grumbling, "Wha?"

"You were dreaming," Severus said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I…wha…?" She blinked up at him, waking up suddenly. "I was…."

"Dreaming," he supplied.

She blushed. "Right. Good night."

Hermione promptly rolled over and he frowned. He went to lie back down and go to sleep himself, but she started talking.

"Um…did you…you haven't…never mind," she muttered, and he placed a hand on her shoulder once before rolling over and attempting to go back to sleep.

* * *

Sunday and Monday passed in much the same way Hermione's days had been going—marvelously wonderful, to start with. Severus indulged her on Sunday morning by staying a bit late. It made her late for breakfast, but she just told her friends she'd slept in. They all spent the day studying and working on final projects, and Tonks joined them occasionally, showing them some interesting defensive spells she'd picked up.

That evening, Hermione and Severus went to sleep more or less on time, after another snogging session. They'd decided to reserve reading for Saturday nights, when they wouldn't have to get up early. Their practice sessions were in the way on Friday nights, but that was just as enjoyable as reading, so it didn't matter much.

Monday was another long day of Transfigurations, although it was somehow a bit more enjoyable because McGonagall knew and she kept smiling at Hermione. It was very reassuring. At the end of the day, she enjoyed another magical theory debate with Severus, which got cut short when they realized how late it was and had to get to bed.

It was Tuesday when Hermione realized a few things. One, Draco hadn't said or done anything more about his proposal, that she'd seen. Two, Ginny was still acting particularly gloomy. And three, she hadn't seen the two of them together very often lately.

So, Hermione caught up with Draco just before lunch and they found an alcove where no one would bother them.

"Have you decided when you're going to ask Ginny?" she asked cautiously.

Draco shifted and dug under his nails. "No," he mumbled.

She frowned. "But you seemed so excited…I figured you had it all planned out."

"I _was_ excited," he assured her, then sighed. "But then I started thinking…what if she says no? I mean, I don't think I could handle that. I-I thought this was the best step. I love her so much." He glanced at her and she nodded, indicating she was listening. "But what if she's not ready? What if I'm pushing too fast? If she said no, I…." He trailed off, exhaling heavily.

She placed a reassuring hand on his. "Draco, she's not going to say no. She loves you."

"But what if this is too soon?" he asked, sounding pained. "I don't want to rush her. And Mum thinks it's too soon."

"So? You and Ginny move at your own pace—you always have," Hermione retorted, shaking her head. "This makes sense for _you_."

"But—"

"Believe me. Ginny is not going to say no," she said firmly. "Do you remember a few weeks ago when you told her you wanted to ask her to go to the Leaving Ball with you, but you didn't get a chance to until later?"

He nodded, still looking glum.

"Well, she thought when you said you wanted to ask her something that you were going to propose." She chuckled when his eyes widened. "And she was so excited it took me half an hour to convince her that that probably wasn't it."

"Really?" He squirmed, ears going pink. "She was excited?"

She smiled. "Yes. Like I said, she loves you. Very, very much."

Draco breathed in and out, grinning at last. He nodded and squeezed her hand.

"All right. Thanks, Hermione," he said sincerely.

"You're welcome."

"So, I'm going to need your help," Draco said seriously, turning to face her directly.

Hermione smiled. "Whatever you want."

* * *

Ginny was still glum when Hermione finally arrived at the table. Harry and Ron were deep in discussion about their Potions homework, while Neville was busy talking Dean through his Herbology assignment, so Hermione was free to talk with Ginny. Who was, once again, picking at her food rather than eating it.

"Are you actually planning on eating anything today?" Hermione teased, bumping her shoulder into hers playfully.

Ginny grumbled and Hermione sighed.

"Are you okay?" she tried again, ducking her head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not right now."

She glanced at the boys across the table and Hermione caught the hint. She frowned and set her silverware down, patting Ginny's shoulder.

"You want to leave? We can go talk in the Room of Requirement, if you want," she urged.

Ginny nodded soberly and set down her fork, standing with Hermione. She let the boys know they were going, and then the two made their way down the aisle. Once they were in the Room of Requirement, Hermione sat Ginny down on the couch the room automatically supplied and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"So…what's up?" she asked softly.

Ginny didn't answer right away. She only heaved a sigh, and Hermione realized with a start that she was crying. She immediately put her arm around Ginny's shoulder, rubbing her back gently and rocking her.

"Tell me what's wrong. Please."

Ginny sighed, wiping her cheeks. "I…I think Draco's cheating on me."

Hermione stared at her, shocked. Ginny cried harder, so she quickly went back to her duty of rubbing her back and shoulders.

"What makes you think that?" she prompted, trying to sound soothing rather than disbelieving.

"Well…we haven't spent much time together lately," she wept, leaning into Hermione's shoulder. "Every time I want to, he says he's busy. And the other night, I wanted to…you know, and he…didn't. He said he was tired."

"Well, maybe he really is just busy and tired," she said matter-of-factly.

"But it's not like that. It's like he's hiding something from me," she protested, shaking her head.

"Maybe it's not what you think…" Hermione said slowly.

"Or maybe it's exactly what I think," Ginny sobbed. "I mean…he's never not wanted me before."

"Ginny, this isn't like you," she ventured, trying a different tactic. "Normally when a boy cheats on you, you get angry. Remember when you almost hexed off Jimmy's…stuff?" She grinned.

Ginny laughed through her tears, but sobered again almost immediately.

"But this is different," she murmured, sighing and sagging into her again. "It's Draco, you know? I love him more than anybody I've ever been with."

Hermione sighed. "Why don't you spend the evening with me?"

Ginny perked up. "Like a slumber party?"

She nodded, smiling. "Exactly like that. We can play games, braid hair, paint toenails. I'll get some ice cream and fudge from the kitchens. It'll be fun. What do you say?"

She smiled. "Sounds like fun."

Hermione patted her shoulder. "Good. And we'll talk this whole thing with Draco out." She sighed. "I'm sure he would never cheat on you, Ginny. He loves you too much."

She looked about to protest, but instead just sighed and wiped her cheeks some more. Hermione rubbed her back and went to suggest that they get back to lunch, but Tonks and Kingsley burst inside before she could.

"Harry said you'd be in here," Tonks said cheerfully, then frowned when she saw the look on Ginny's face. "Hey, you okay, honey?"

Ginny just nodded her head, attempting a weak smile.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asked, looking between them.

Kingsley was frowning. "Your boy had the right address, but Marius already cleared out. He must've guessed what your next step would be."

Hermione slumped. "Did you tell Dumbledore?"

"Just did," he replied.

"Don't worry, kiddo. We're going to nail this bloke," Tonks assured her, smiling.

Hermione nodded once and rubbed Ginny's shoulder again. Well, it was definitely Marius' move.

* * *

Severus bent over his desk, marking corrections in what felt like every word of the third year's essay. He considered stopping and simply writing a 'T' at the top, but it would bother him if he didn't correct the rest of the mistakes. Besides, it was quite entertaining, coming up with new insults for this dunderhead.

It would be time to return to Hermione's quarters in a couple of hours, but he had a detention to take care of first. Not to mention the visit from Pomona he was expecting. She was delivering ingredients he'd asked for, and she knew better than to send a student.

He looked up when he heard two knocks on his door, Hermione's customary number. His brow furrowed.

"Enter," he snapped, just in case.

Hermione hurried into the room, not looking back to see if the door had latched, and came rushing up with a thick book in her arms. Severus pushed his chair back to rise and greet her, but she plopped into his lap, breathing heavily as she flipped through the pages. He shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable with her there, and simultaneously fighting off arousal.

"Hello," he said huskily.

Hermione glanced at him and then blushed crimson. She started to rise, but he held her there, keeping one hand around her waist and the other on her knee. She smiled, pleased, and kissed him once.

"Hi," she said at last, then began running her finger down the page, scanning the book closely.

Severus waited patiently, brow furrowing as she bounced up and grinned at him.

"Ahem. Section one hundred and forty-five, number sixteen, paragraph three states that 'an apprentice at any school in the wizarding world is permitted to court and-or marry a professor at his or her school, as long as he or she is of age and the professor in question is not his or her master'," she read, then promptly shut the book and beamed at him. "Ha!"

Severus desperately wanted to laugh, but instead he quirked his lips into a smirk and took the book from her lap, examining the binding.

"Is that so?" he purred, enjoying the shiver he felt go up her spine at his tone.

"It is," she said haughtily, raising her chin. "I was right. Again." She grinned, then kissed him, burrowing her fingers in his hair. "Feel better now?"

He focused his eyes on her lips and set the book on the desk behind her, shifting to pull her closer to him as he purred, "Much." She put her arms around his neck and he felt his arousal becoming more and more obvious as she kissed him, exploring his mouth for once. He squeezed her sides, greatly tempted to put her up on his desk and take her then and there. The moan she let out certainly didn't help to calm the beast that always rose up in him at times like these.

Fortunately, before his self-control snapped and he was ravaging her, Hermione pulled back, frowning a little. His heart thumped a bit harder, but not in the good way. A frown was not a good sign.

"I forgot…I also came to tell you that Ginny is spending the night in my quarters," she said mournfully, leaning her forehead against his. "But you can come back tomorrow night. And we can make up for it, okay?" She smiled.

Severus cleared his throat. And here it was. Decreasing the amount of time they spent together, barely noticeable, but effective. He lifted her up to set her on her feet and paced to the blackboard, erasing it just for something to do.

"That's fine," he grumbled.

There was a different sort of frown in Hermione's voice when she asked, "Are you all right?"

"Well enough," he replied flatly.

There was silence behind him, and then she huffed. He winced.

"I wish you would just tell me," she said, a touch irritably. "I feel like you don't trust me."

He turned to scowl at her. "I do."

"You don't confide in me," she retorted, hands on her hips. "We should at least be at a place where you can talk to me. Shouldn't we?"

"I do talk to you," Severus said, and he hated that he sounded almost petulant.

"About how you feel?" she asked pointedly. When he didn't answer, she sighed and said, "Look, I don't want to push you. If you have things you don't want to share with me, fine. But if I've done something to upset you, I want you to tell me. And this thing with Ginny is just a one-night thing. She needs me right now. She thinks Draco is cheating on her."

He arched a brow. "That's unlikely."

"I know that and you know that, but Ginny is convinced," she said, shaking her head. "And I can't tell her he's actually planning to propose. That'll ruin everything. So she really needs me. Is that okay with you?"

"I do not expect you to cease supporting your friends," Severus said grudgingly, folding his arms. "I understand."

"Then why are you mad at me?" Hermione demanded, a little desperately.

"I'm not angry with you," he said firmly.

"What is it, then? You couldn't have been _that_ bothered by the board being dirty."

"Hermione, everything is fine," he replied, sighing. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You may go, if you wish."

"I don't wish," she said sharply. "I want you to tell me what I've done."

"You haven't done anything," he growled, growing frustrated.

"Then what is wrong?" she snapped.

The tense silence settled between them, tearing at Severus. He avoided her eyes, forcing himself not to answer. He gritted his teeth instead, focusing hard on a point on the wall.

"Do you think I'm choosing my friends over you?" Hermione asked, softer this time.

He glanced at her. "No."

"You have got to give me a hint, at least," she begged, stepping closer. "Please."

She looked so vulnerable and hurt. Severus flinched, because it was his doing. He sighed.

"Good things never last," he grumbled, and strode to his desk to sit.

It took a moment, but soon she was at his side again, looking stunned.

"You think this is going to end?" she prompted, eyes wide. "Why? Do you think that I'm going to change my mind? I mean…what do you think I mean when I say I love you? 'Yeah, I kind of, sort of have a little bit of a crush of you, so we can snog for a bit if you like, but then it's over'?"

He rolled his eyes. "No," he said shortly.

"Have you not even been listening to me these past few days? I have thought about everything—I've had plenty of time to do it—and I care that you were a Death Eater. I really do. But I only love you more because of what you did afterward. Was that not clear the last time I said it?" she asked, sounding completely puzzled.

Severus sighed and shook his head. "Perfectly clear."

"Would you please look at me?" When he did, she sighed and said, "Thank you. Now listen to me. I _love you_. And I have for years. I'm not going to change my mind. I am happier with you than I have ever been—I mean that. You make me happy. And I am not all the people in the past who have let you down. I'm me. I'm not leaving you. You are completely stuck with me."

Hermione let out a breath and stood there for a moment in silence. Severus dipped his head once, finding it a bit difficult to process all that she'd said. It was hard to wrap his head around the thought—she wouldn't leave him. Hermione unfolded her arms and sighed.

"And if that didn't convince you, maybe this will," she said determinedly, and then she was in his lap and kissing him more fiercely than she ever had.

Severus couldn't help a grunt of surprise, but she didn't stop, even when he froze in response. Her hands were in his hair and she was holding him there, kissing him and tasting him fervently. Her legs squeezed around him and he could feel her pressed against him through his pants. His arousal was already raging fire through his blood, but it wasn't until she ground her hips against him that the beast snapped out of it.

He clutched her hips and fought for control of the kiss, which she didn't relinquish easily. They battled for a moment before she gave in with a moan, moving against him sinuously so he could feel her breasts against his chest. She ground against him again and his hips bucked involuntarily, eliciting a small cry of surprise from her that effectively broke the kiss. He pulled her hair from her neck and worked his way down her jaw, tasting her skin and making her moan.

A part of him was sending warning signals off in his head—this was going farther than they ever had before and they were approaching dangerous territory. The beast in him promptly told it to shut up and moved his hand down her side, brushing against her breast. His mouth continued to work across her neck, pausing to nip at her skin and then sooth it with another kiss.

Hermione sighed shakily as she moved against him, making him harder and hungrier. He was fingering the bottom of her shirt when he heard an owl screech as it flew in through the window. He mentally cursed and wrapped his arms around her, preventing her escape when he felt her start to move away. She dug her nails into his shoulder and moaned when he pushed up against her.

"Severus," she gasped, shifting on top of him. She was panting as she spoke. "We have to…there's a message and…we…."

Obviously she wasn't going to participate until he dealt with the damned bird. He reluctantly pulled back and shot a glare at the owl, cursing it for its atrocious timing. Hermione's cheeks were red and she offered him a smile, eyes alight with desire, before clambering off his lap. She adjusted her clothing while he removed the note from the owl's leg.

The bird flew off before he could do anything else to it, and he glared after it for a moment. He caught sight of Hermione and swallowed down the urge to snatch her up and pull her back into his lap. He huffed and broke the seal instead, pulling out the thin scrap of parchment. Arousal disappeared, replaced by rage, and he glowered at the paper.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked immediately, seeing his displeasure.

He gestured her closer and she peered over his shoulder at the note.

"'Soon'," she echoed, quietly.

Severus let the parchment fall to his desk and Hermione looked down at him, desire replaced by concern. He put his arm around her waist, rubbing her side reassuringly, and turned to glower at the parchment again. That idiot was going to pay.


	28. Secrets: Part Three

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Still.

**A/N:** I'm really sorry this is late, but I've been working hard studying for finals this past week. Hopefully I'll have more time to spend writing now that they're all over. Also…sigh…these two are out of control! So I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Hermione was surprised at how completely brazen she'd been earlier. Sure, she'd been determined to convince him that she loved him and didn't intend to leave, but she'd been awfully brave. What if he hadn't appreciated her forwardness?

She shrugged it off—after all, he'd reacted more positively than she could've hoped—and glanced surreptitiously up at him. He was scowling straight ahead, but she felt his eyes rake over her in an intense, goose bump-spreading sweep every once in a while. Her heart was still pounding from their moment in the chair, and she wanted desperately to jump him again. Damn owl.

And damn Marius. Presently, they were taking all three notes they'd collected from him to Tonks and Kingsley. After all, she'd reasoned, they could use all the evidence they could get. She hoped they would figure out a way to catch him soon. Marius was too careful, too smart. He was never on the Marauder's Map when she looked, and he avoided using dark magic, it seemed. He flew under the radar with ease, and she was starting to worry that he would torment her and Severus forever.

Well, the reasonable part of her brain was worrying about that. The rest was dedicated to a smoldering desire that threatened to overtake her at every turn they took. Outwardly, the only signs of her wandering thoughts were her slightly pink cheeks and her occasional glances his way. On the inside, she was screaming for release from the ache she felt deep within. She cursed herself for suggesting a girls' night with Ginny. She _needed_ him.

Severus knocked on Tonks and Kingsley's portrait, who was curtsying in greeting. Hermione smiled at the portrait briefly, but her eyes soon returned to Severus. He glanced her way and she swallowed, attempting to give him the same polite smile she'd given the portrait. She had a feeling she'd failed when his eyes darkened and his gaze lowered, sending a chill up her spine.

"Oh!" Tonks said, surprised. "Everything okay, kiddo?"

Hermione tore her gaze away and smiled again. "Sure. Professor Snape and I were in the middle of a discussion when an owl delivered this," she informed her, gesturing to the notes in Severus' hand.

He passed them to her and Tonks turned to yell for Kingsley, who came to the door in short order. He spared a smile for both of them, but as soon as Tonks handed him one of the notes, his smile faded and deep lines of concentration appeared in his forehead.

"The other two arrived weeks ago," Severus purred, and Hermione glanced at him again.

She couldn't help herself. His scowl remained, but she saw the corner of his lips quirk a little when he caught her gaze. She smiled, a tingle going straight through her centre, and she abruptly turned to face Tonks and Kingsley.

"It was smart, getting these to us," Kingsley said approvingly. "We'll have them examined."

"And if we don't find anything—hey, we've got evidence!" Tonks added cheerfully.

Hermione chuckled. "True."

"We checked your room just a while ago," Kingsley told her. "It's clear."

"Oh, good." She swiped her palms on her robes.

"And we assume you'll let us know if there are any more creepy critters in _your_ rooms," Tonks said to Severus, winking.

He dipped his head. "Indeed."

Hermione clenched her fingers around her robes, attempting to hide her reaction to Severus' voice. Kingsley smiled.

"Good. If there's anything else, let us know," he instructed.

Hermione bobbed her head. "Okay."

She had lost the ability to say anything with more than two syllables, she decided.

"Good night," Tonks said cheerfully.

Severus nodded sharply to both of them and they shut the portrait door, leaving her alone with him again. Hermione glanced his way, but he only turned and strode back down the hallway. She spun on her heel and hurried to catch up, eager to steal a few more moments alone. Besides, she reasoned, she had to go this way so she could go up the stairs.

They were quickly approaching the stairs that would part them for the evening when Severus snatched her around the waist and ushered her into an empty classroom. As soon as the door was shut, he had her in his hands and he was kissing her fiercely, taking her breath away. She opened her mouth to him and squeezed her arms around his neck as he pushed her back against the door, increasing her hunger with every breathless second.

Severus devoured her with his demanding kiss, making sure she knew within every particle of her being exactly who she belonged to. She was surprised by this intensity he'd been so careful not to display before, but not displeased. She arched into him, moving into his hands as they bravely passed over her breasts in a caress that made her moan, driving her out of her mind with need. Almost.

The reasonable part of her mind popped up at that moment, unexpected and unwelcome. Nonetheless, it was there, trumpeting its arrival and distracting her from the sumptuous sensation of his arousal against her belly.

_Ginny is waiting_, it told her sternly.

_We can use his quarters. Or that desk over there…whichever comes first,_ she replied.

_You can't abandon her right now! She needs you!_ it retorted, scandalized.

_**I**__ need Severus, and she's mad. Draco would never cheat on her,_ she snapped. _Now go away._

_Hermione Jane, get a hold of yourself. He won't even sleep in the same bed with you with his socks off. What makes you think he's going to be ready for this step?_ it said, equally displeased.

_Judging from where his hand is…oh, sweet Lord, go away! This is amazing!_ she growled.

_I'm not going away until you realize that your friend needs you right now, and she'll worry—or even suspect—if you don't show up. Besides, the sleepover was __**your**__ idea. You've only yourself to blame_, it said haughtily.

Hermione groaned and reluctantly pulled away from him, breathing so hard she may as well have run a marathon. Severus kissed her open mouth once, briefly, then trailed his lips down her neck, making her arch against him. She sighed.

"Wai-wait," she panted, crying out in misery inwardly. "I have to…Ginny…and…." What were her reasons again?

Severus pulled back to meet her eyes, scowling deeply. "Have you ever considered a career in torture?"

Hermione couldn't help a chuckle. "I'm sorry." She kissed him once again. "But…tomorrow night we could…oh, but Wednesday and Thursday are busy nights for me, and Friday we have the practice session. Saturday might…work. Except I promised Draco I'd help him with his proposal, and my friends want to throw a party in Hogsmeade then." She sighed.

He grumbled to himself, but eventually nodded. "Go. We will…continue another night."

"I do want to," she assured him, then kissed him again. When they parted, she panted, "Really, _really_ want to."

He smirked and cupped her cheeks, giving her an intense, but brief, parting kiss. She sighed when he released her, desperately wanting to stay there with him. Instead, Hermione smiled warmly at him, squeezing his hand once, and opened the door.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione yawned on her way to Septima's classroom. Last night had been fun—if not the kind of fun she'd wanted to have—but when they climbed under the blankets to go to sleep, she…couldn't. First of all, she was freezing cold, as she'd forgotten to put her two blankets back on since Severus wouldn't be there to warm her up. And second, she just couldn't get comfortable without him wrapped around her. Of course, Ginny had been on the other side of the bed, but it wasn't the same—for many reasons.

So Hermione was now moving sluggishly, exhausted after a night of no sleep, and she was going to be late if she didn't pick up the pace. She sighed and forced her legs to move a little faster as she strode down the hallway.

"Lookin' good, Granger," a teasing voice called from the other side of the hall.

She looked up to find Draco leaning against the wall with a book, grinning widely. She smiled weakly at him and wove her way through the crowd to his side. She didn't have much time, but she could at least tell him what was going on with Ginny. That way, things would go smoothly on Saturday when he proposed.

Hermione yawned again and flicked her long braid over her shoulder. Ginny had insisted on putting the curly mess of Hermione's hair into a braid when she tired of Charms homework. Hermione would've rather kept helping her with the homework, but since Ginny was feeling bummed, she let her. For some reason, it always made her feel better to play with hair when she was sad or angry.

"How are you this morning?" she asked, leaning up against the wall next to him.

"All right. You?" he replied, still smiling. "Besides tired."

She yawned again. "Add exhausted and you got it."

"Must've been some night," Draco said suggestively, winking at her.

"I spent it with your girlfriend," Hermione retorted, and that got his attention. "Look, I know you're anxious about proposing, but you can't show it to Ginny."

His brow furrowed. "I'm no—"

"That's what you think, but she can tell something is different," she cut in sharply. "She thinks you're cheating on her."

His expression hardened, and he looked more like that stuck-up ferret face he once was than he had in what felt like years.

"I—"

"_Don't_ get mad at her," Hermione snapped immediately. "Ginny has had a long history of men who've cheated on her. To her, it's only logical to jump to that conclusion."

He frowned, but he didn't look as angry anymore. "Well…what am I supposed to do about it? Come up and say, 'Hey, Gin, I'm not cheating on you. Just by the by.'"

"Hey," Harry greeted from behind Hermione.

She sighed, glancing at him. "No. Look, I need to get to class, so I don't have time to explain it to you. Harry, could you, instead? Thanks. I'll see you both later."

With that, she strode off down the hallway, still rubbing her eyes and yawning.

* * *

Harry's brow furrowed as he looked off after her. "She's strange when she's tired."

Draco nodded in agreement, but said nothing.

"Anyway. What am I supposed to explain to you?" he asked, sounding too chipper for Draco's tastes.

Harry looked at him expectantly and Draco considered just blurting it out. But it was a little embarrassing, for several reasons. For one, since when did he have to come to _Potter_ for advice about women? And second, Ginny thought he was cheating on her. That was horrifying enough in itself. So instead, he just shut his book and shook his head.

"It's nothing," he muttered, and wandered down the corridor.

Harry caught up with him. "Now you _have_ to tell me," he said seriously.

Draco frowned indignantly. "I do not."

"Yes, you do," he retorted, pulling up when Draco did. "The 'it's nothing' answer always means it's something, usually something important and big. So tell me." When he looked skeptical, Harry sighed and added, "I may not be the world's best advice giver, but I guarantee I'm better than Crabbe and Goyle. I can at least give you some supportive sounds. I can go, 'Hmm.'" He nodded sagely.

Draco rolled his eyes and kept walking. "Well…I suppose that's true. Crabbe and Goyle only go, 'Huh.' Only it's more like, 'Huh?' It's rather unhelpful. And annoying."

"Yeah, Ron does that when I complain about Potions," Harry sympathized. "'Course, Ron's never understood Potions. Crabbe and Goyle can unlearn things. Like the fact that I duck when they try to throw hexes at me."

Draco smirked. "Yeah, they are bloody stupid."

"Definitely. So, tell me what's going on," Harry persisted, glancing at him expectantly.

He huffed. "It's…Ginny."

He nodded. "Right."

"She thinks…she thinks I'm cheating on her," Draco said slowly, stomach churning with every word. "Or at least that's what Hermione says."

"So I'm assuming you're not cheating on her?" he asked.

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, scowling.

Harry nodded. "Just making sure. Well, have you, by any chance, been paying less attention to her lately?"

He shrugged noncommittally.

"Can you think of any behaviors you've unexpectedly changed? Any time you gave up time with her?" Harry prompted patiently.

"I suppose I've told her I'm too busy a couple times when she—"

"Whoa. Wait." Harry physically stopped him with his hand on his shoulder. "You actually _told_ her you were 'too busy'?"

Draco frowned. "Yeah. Why—"

"You never, _ever_ tell a woman that," he said firmly.

"What? Why?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Because it sounds like you're blowing them off, for one thing!" he exclaimed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "How would you like it if you came to ask Ginny if she could go for a walk and she told you, 'I'm too busy' and went back to what she was doing? Not very good, I reckon."

Draco nodded once. "But…what if I'm busy?"

"You tell them you are, but in a nicer way," Harry instructed, walking again. "See, what I do with Luna is say, 'I'm so sorry. I'd rather spend time with you, but I've got this homework hanging over my head.' And then she stays to help me. It's a win-win. I get homework help, so it goes faster, and she still spends time with me." He grinned.

Draco stared at him. "Bloody hell, that's _good_."

His grin grew even wider. "Thanks. Now, is there anything else you've done lately like that?"

Draco's ears heated up. "Well…the other day she wanted to…and I…you know…so…."

"What did you tell her?" Harry asked, unfazed.

"I said I was too tired," he muttered, avoiding his eyes.

He grimaced. "Oh…no, no, no. _Never_ say that again. Ever."

"Why not?!" Draco inquired, alarmed.

"Because they think you're faking it and that you don't want to have sex," he explained.

His eyes went wide. "What? Wh-wh-why? Why would they think that?!"

"Because that's the excuse _they_ use when they don't want to," Harry said, sighing. "So they project it."

"How did I not know this?" he growled, rubbing his forehead.

"Your Slytherin energies are focused on the pursuit," he answered, even though he'd sort of meant that rhetorically. "Once you have what you wanted, you quickly cast it aside anyway, so you aren't as aware of these rules as the rest of us experienced blokes."

Draco stared at him again. "How did you figure that out?" he blurted, surprised at Harry's perceptiveness.

"Hermione told me," he said simply, shrugging and walking on.

Ah. That made sense. Draco shrugged and hurried to catch up with him.

"So, what do I tell her instead?" he asked interestedly.

"The truth. But make it sound good," Harry said, smirking. "Like this, 'Well…I don't feel like it right now. Can we just cuddle instead?'"

Draco grinned. "That's genius! Where did you learn all this? Luna?"

He stopped and shot him a look. "I've never had to use any of this on Luna, but I'll tell you how I know. You're talking to a man who's been friends with and almost-boyfriend of Ginny for several years, and who practically grew up with Hermione. You don't get a better education than that."

Harry strode off again and Draco laughed before hurrying to match his stride.

* * *

Crookshanks perched on the stairs, waiting for the fire to flash green and the Bastard to enter. He hadn't come last night, but Crookshanks was sure he'd be back again. After all, the Ginny girl wasn't here tonight, like she had been before. That could only mean one thing. He glared down at the fireplace, daring the Bastard to enter his territory. It was time for attempt two.

Since the family jewel plan hadn't worked out, Crookshanks was going to try something more subtle. He was going to attack from a place where the Bastard wouldn't notice him—the floor. After all, Crookshanks reasoned, the Bastard was very tall—much taller than Hermione—and so he'd be less likely to notice if Crookshanks got…underfoot.

So there he sat, waiting for the Bastard to try and enter _his_ domain and sleep with _his_ mistress again. Sure enough, there was a green flash and the Bastard exited the fireplace. He pulled out his wand and the ash flew off of him, and then he turned and strode up the stairs at a hurried pace. Crookshanks shifted, getting ready for him.

The Bastard overtook the first four steps, now he was turning on the landing…two more steps…one…two! Crookshanks lunged and grabbed the Bastard's ankle, but something had gone wrong _again_. The Bastard had stopped moving.

Crookshanks craned his neck, looking up at the Bastard. He was looking down his nose at him, his black eyes glaring. Crookshanks glared right back and slowly removed his paw from the Bastard's ankle, pouting.

"Nice try," the Bastard said, and then ascended the rest of the stairs.

Crookshanks tapped his tail angrily. _Bastard_.

* * *

Hermione lay in bed with a warm, wet washcloth over her forehead, sighing every once in a while. She hadn't known Arithmancy could get that violent. But apparently disagreeing over an equation was reason enough for third years to attack one another. With their books. And without watching out for bystanders. She huffed. What a day.

"Are you all right?"

Her head popped off the pillow and she immediately regretted it. She grimaced and lifted her washcloth back to her forehead.

"Hi," she said, smiling at the sight of Severus. He strode over hurriedly, easing onto the bed next to her and reaching to take the washcloth from her. "I'm fine. There was a small fight in the third year Arithmancy class, but it's not a big deal. I took a Headache Potion earlier and—"

Severus gently smoothed his thumb over the bump on her forehead, making her simultaneously close her eyes with pleasure and wince in pain. "But headache draughts often do not take care of the pain of bruises." He frowned. "I will retrieve you one from my private stores that does."

He went to rise, but Hermione snatched his wrist.

"No, no, that's okay," she assured him, pressing the washcloth back to her forehead. "It'll be fine, just…don't leave."

He smirked, but it quickly faded when his eyes traveled to her forehead again. He stroked her hair tenderly, his every touch affectionate and gentle. She smiled, taking his other hand in hers and entwining their fingers. He squeezed her hand, much to her delight.

"I missed you last night," Hermione told him, hearing her voice go low.

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckle. "And I missed you."

A rush of joy went through her. "Does this mean I won yesterday?" she asked, smiling.

His lips twitched and his eyes glittered. "Let us call it a truce."

She grinned. "I can live with that."

Severus frowned as his hand traveled over her hair again, as though he were calculating. Hermione watched, not wanting to interrupt a genius at work, but she couldn't help a small grin. She loved his look of concentration.

"Lie back," he instructed, standing abruptly, "and tell me about your day."

Her brow furrowed, but she obeyed, worming under the covers and settling the washcloth over her forehead again. She watched him lean to take off his boots as usual and cleared her throat, preparing to tell him.

"Well…I didn't sleep well, so breakfast is a bit of a blur," she told him, half-kidding. "But I ran into Draco on my way to Arithmancy and told him that Ginny thinks he's cheating. He was a bit upset about that at first."

Severus grunted. "I imagine so."

"I understand his frustration, too, of course—it would be horrible if the person you loved didn't trust you—but practically every boyfriend Ginny has had has cheated on her at one point or another," she explained, sighing. "It's only natural for her to learn to expect it."

He stretched along the bed next to her. "Close your eyes." When she did, he added, "Go on."

"So I told him that, and he calmed down a little, but then I had to go, so I asked Harry to explain it to him," Hermione continued, eyebrows rising a bit when she felt him remove the washcloth. "Which I know is risky, considering past history and all, but they seem to be getting along all right now." She sighed. "The only exciting thing that happened after that was—oh…that feels nice."

Severus didn't reply verbally, but he kept running his fingers over her forehead and down her cheeks, relaxing her muscles. She sighed, feeling as though she could fall asleep right then and there.

"Um…what was I saying? Oh, yes. Well, during Luna's class, she disproved a classmate's theory. That was rather enjoyable, particularly for me, since that girl annoys me. As I'm sure I've mentioned before," she continued.

"Hm. Yes, I believe you have," he rumbled in reply.

She smiled. "Mm. Don't ever stop that, okay?"

He pressed a kiss to the uninjured side of her forehead. "As you wish."

"Oh, and then, after lunch, I was hit in the head with the giant book. Which wasn't fun, except for when Septima deducted thirty points from each of them and gave them detentions with Filch," Hermione concluded. "Other than those few events and missing you, I haven't had a very exciting day." She shifted. "How about you? How was your day?"

She was expecting his usual 'well enough' response, but instead there was silence before he took a breath and said, "All right, considering. You would think I'd be able to escape explosions in the Defense position, but Creevey still manages to blow things up, including other students' desks."

Hermione chuckled. "I am so glad you said 'desks.'"

She heard the smirk in his voice when he said, "The way Robins was keening, you'd have thought I hadn't."

She giggled again. "Well, he _is_ a bit of a crybaby."

"Indeed."

"How about the rest of your day? Any exciting arguments or more explosions?" she asked eagerly, so happy to actually hear about his day she couldn't contain herself.

"Just the typical exchanges with Minerva and Dumbledore, I'm afraid," he replied, his fingers traveling down her jaw this time, loosening those muscles up as well. "The man is determined I take a lemon drop from him before he retires."

She laughed again. "I don't think anyone has said yes to that in the history of wizardkind."

"Which may be the wisest decision the many people who have come to this school have made. Who knows what he's poisoned them with?"

Hermione grinned, opening her eyes. Severus was smirking down at her, and his hands paused on her chin, gently keeping her in place. He bent slowly, killing her with the anticipation, and kissed her at last. She sighed into him with relief, reaching up to wrap her arms around him. He parted her lips carefully, exploring her slowly this time, only pulling away when they both needed air.

"Good night, Hermione," he murmured, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips.

"Good night," she whispered back, and curled up against him for a good night's sleep.

* * *

Owls screeched, breaking the usual breakfast chatter as mail arrived. Pig delivered Ron's latest messages to him, receiving a scratch on the head and a treat from Lavender, who had rather warmed up to the bird. Hedwig nuzzled Harry for quite some time before she took off, and Owen arrived before she left. Ginny took her messages off the owl's leg and gave him a small bite off her plate before he left.

As per usual on Thursdays, Hermione received a letter from home, which she tore open and started scanning at once. Until an owl dove in front of her, a blur of brown and red. It skidded to a stop in front of Ginny and shook its head, as if to say, 'Man, that was a bad landing!'

Hermione grinned when she saw that it was standing lopsided due to a rather large bouquet of red roses. Ginny removed the gift from the owl's leg and stroked its head. It took a moment to rest before taking off again.

"Secret admirer, Gin?" Ron teased.

Ginny slipped the card out of the side, shooting her brother an annoyed look. Hermione peeked over her shoulder briefly and noted with satisfaction that the card was signed '_D.M._' She feigned ignorance and took another bite of her eggs, waiting for Ginny to finish reading it before she said anything.

"Who's it from?" she asked nonchalantly.

Rather than be secretive, Ginny sighed. "Draco. They're apology flowers for not paying enough attention to me lately."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Harry asked, watching her closely.

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's a nice gesture, but…well, remember when I dated Michael for a month and he bought me something every time he cheated on me?"

"Yeah, so? Oh!" Neville blanched. "I'm sorry, Ginny. That really sucks."

"Ginny, I don't think that's the case for Draco," Hermione ventured, glancing at a frowning Harry. "I mean, if he was going to do this, he'd have done it all along. Don't you think?"

"Besides, Draco's a Slytherin. It's not very subtle to lavish you with gifts while he's cheating on you," Harry added helpfully.

"That's usually a guilt gift anyway," Ron agreed. "And I don't imagine Malfoy's feeling guilty if he's shagging someone else."

Ginny glared at him.

"Really, Ginny, I'd just take this at face-value," Hermione cut in hastily, before Ginny exploded Ron with her eyes.

She sighed and took a whiff of the flowers. "They _are_ nice," she murmured.

"Great quality," Neville approved.

"There you go," Harry said, slapping Neville on the shoulder. "You've got the Herbologist seal of approval and everything."

"Speaking of which, any sign of Marius lately?" Ron asked, scowling.

"Other than the note I told you about yesterday, no," Hermione replied, shrugging. They all scowled. "Look, I don't want you all fretting. It could take a while for him to make a move—he's smart. So can we all just relax and enjoy ourselves for now?" They all grumbled their assent. "Thank you."

"Okay, so on Saturday, we've got the room rented…"

* * *

Hermione pulled her nightgown out of her bureau and flung it over the bed, humming to herself while she took off her robe. Crookshanks was lying across the end of the bed, cleaning himself vigorously. He hadn't looked at her all night—out of spite, she was sure. She knew he still wasn't exactly happy about Severus' occupation of her room, but it would just take time. He'd get used to it.

She smiled at the grump as she undid the buttons on her top, peeling it off with a sigh of relief. She'd gotten rather overheated today, and it was nice to be unwinding. She took off the tank top and tossed it on the floor with the other shirt. She was just about to unclasp her bra when she heard someone's breath hitch behind her.

Hermione stared at Severus in surprise, feeling her cheeks go a little pink. Was she late? Normally she was already in her nightgown by the time he arrived…. One glance at her watch found that he was, in fact, early. She went to smile at him, but the door shut just as she looked up and she frowned in confusion.

What was _that_ about? Did he find her…unattractive? She swallowed down panic. He _used_ to think she was ugly, not now. That was all in the past, when she had buckteeth. Right? Or was this part of his reluctance to take off his own clothing in front of her?

Hermione's confusion had quickly turned into curiosity and, before she knew it, she was trotting down the stairs and approaching him with rapid steps. He froze where he stood, looking much like a deer caught in the headlights.

"All right, what was that?" she demanded, frowning up at him.

Severus stared at her, forcing his head back up when it started to dip. Hermione scowled and waited expectantly. She didn't care if she was clad only in jeans and a bra. She wanted this settled.

"What was what?" he asked, feigning obliviousness.

Hermione glared. "Don't pretend that wasn't a big deal. You saw me and took off like the Grim was chasing you. Tell me, what's the problem? Do you not like how I look?"

"_No_," he snapped, shaking his head roughly. "This has nothing to do with how attractive you are."

"Then what is it?" He didn't answer, so Hermione huffed and went on, "I mean, we sleep in the same bed. We've practically been mauling each other recently. So I think we should be at a point where we don't have to be embarrassed about this. Don't you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes lowered to her chest and he forced his gaze away. His teeth ground together and Hermione waited, placing her hands on her hips. They would have this out whether he liked it or not.

"I can't speak with you when you're dressed like that," Severus growled, plopping onto her couch and folding his arms.

Hermione's temper flared. "Dressed like what? What exactly does this remind you of?"

"It reminds me of nothing," he retorted sharply.

"Then what? What's wrong with me being dressed this way?" she persisted, scowling down at him. "You, me, and Crookshanks are the only ones here. I mean…what point do you think we're at that you're not comfortable with seeing me like this?"

Severus avoided her eyes and she huffed again. This was worse than pulling teeth.

"Look, I thought we were…you know…at that place where we're ready to…" she trailed off, sighing.

Obviously what she'd thought they were trying to find time to do wasn't really what she thought. Unless you could do it without taking off clothes. But judging from the manual she'd read when she hit puberty, you couldn't. Tab A and Slot B weren't exactly free that way.

She frowned again. "This is just a shot in the dark, but is there any chance this has something to do with the fact that you won't even take off your socks to sleep with me?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, not answering her again. Hermione shook her head. There was no point to this. He was completely closed off. She turned on her heel to return to her room and have a good, naked bath. And possibly cry. She hated it when he was like this.

"Hermione," he said quietly. "Come back. Please."

She froze with her hand on the rail, caught between her contrary streak and her desire to come back. She managed to pry her fingers off the rail, one by one, and forced herself to walk back and seat herself on the other side of the couch, back ramrod straight. She eyed him stonily.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose again and rubbed his forehead—hard. He still wouldn't look at her and his teeth were clenched tight, but she waited anyway. There had to be a reason he called her back, so she would find out what it was and _then_ storm off. He sighed.

"No doubt…Potter has told you of his father and my shared animosity," he began, so lowly she could barely hear him.

His voice was thick with hate and disgust, and she wasn't sure who it was directed toward. She nodded anyway.

"Yes, he's mentioned it," she replied, finding her voice had lowered with his. "And I know you didn't like Sirius very much."

He dipped his head. "Then I'm sure he has told you of a certain…memory he stumbled across in his fifth year, during his lessons in Occlumency."

Hermione frowned when he glanced at her. "…No." He eyed her, looking surprised, so she shook her head. "Harry never mentioned anything about a memory."

Severus swallowed visibly and scowled at the fireplace, teeth grinding as he calculated. He shifted on the cushion, glancing at her again. Hermione was starting to wonder what any of this had to do with what they were just discussing, but she didn't say anything. After all, if he was going to open up to her, she certainly didn't want to discourage him.

"Well then." He cleared his throat. "Potter's father and I did not exactly get along for many reasons, one of which was his continued insistence on making my life a living hell." She felt a pang of sympathy, but said nothing. "During my fifth year, he and his friends," he continued, sneering, "felt it necessary to make a public spectacle of me."

He paused, and Hermione swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"What do you mean?" she managed to whisper.

Severus closed his eyes and pinched his nose again. "He disarmed me. Then he hung me upside down, and then he…revealed my…undergarments to the other students," he said slowly, distastefully.

Hermione paled. The anger she'd just felt toward Severus multiplied and redirected itself toward Harry's dad. All the times Harry had been angry because Severus or someone said James was a blackguard or a bastard and she'd sided with him…. She could hardly believe it. That wasn't just cruel—that was sick. She fought the urge to lunge across the couch and hold him. He would think she was pitying him, and he'd hate it.

"Since then, I've been rather reluctant to remove any article from my person," Severus concluded in a low growl, still not meeting her eyes. "Even when…."

She nodded rapidly, to assure him she understood what he meant. She heaved a sigh and let her gaze wander to the flickering flames as well. This certainly explained a lot. She would be uncomfortable with nudity, too, were she in his shoes. Of course, she'd experienced her fair share of bullying as well, but nothing as malicious as that. Her stomach clenched and she felt sick and angry at James all over again. And a little at Sirius, too.

And also, at Remus. She couldn't believe Remus would just stand by and watch while James and Sirius tormented Severus for years. Granted, he had his own problems and he may not have always been there when it happened, but really. She would expect a cowardly reaction like that from Pettigrew, but not Remus. Remus knew better. For a moment, she didn't feel so bad about blackmailing him in third year.

Hermione redirected her thoughts when she felt Severus' eyes on her. Dwelling on it and being angry with dead people wouldn't get her anywhere. She needed to think about Severus. She wondered briefly how he'd ever thought they would have sex if he wouldn't take off his clothes, then brushed the thought aside. Apparently he'd figured something out with the women he'd previously had.

Just because he was uncomfortable with his own nudity didn't mean he needed to be uncomfortable with hers. She would have to accustom him to it, she decided, and let him know that it was all right to be aroused by her. She guessed that was part of the reason for his embarrassment, since he kept shifting and crossing his legs.

Hermione nodded to herself and met his eyes at last. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

He shook his head. "You've nothing to apologize for."

"But I pushed you, and I shouldn't have," she protested.

"You didn't know," he said brusquely.

Hermione sighed, changing tracks. "Look…I'm not going to demand that you get naked for me immediately, although when we…you know, I'd appreciate it." She winked and his lips twitched, just the slightest. "But I just want you to know that I will never laugh at you. I happen to find you very attractive—" his eyes widened a fraction "—and I wouldn't ever do that to you."

Severus didn't say anything, but there was no skepticism in his eyes.

"For now…we can just take it one step at a time," she continued soothingly. "For instance, tonight you can try taking off your socks. If you're not comfortable, you can put them back on. I'd just like it if you tried. You don't have to be uncomfortable with me."

Severus dipped his head when she ducked to meet his gaze and she smiled a little. It was a start, at least.

"Now…I am getting _really_ cold all by my lonesome over here," she said, going for a seductive tone. She ruined it when she smiled at his smirk. "So, if you don't mind, sir…."

She made her way across the couch and he welcomed her into his lap, accepting the kiss she pressed against him in greeting.

"Mm. Sorry if that was a little corny," she said when she pulled away, smiling at him. "I haven't quite got this flirting thing down."

His lips twitched. "You're doing famously," he purred, reaching to kiss her again.

She pulled back. "How did you make _that_ sound flirty?"

Again, he couldn't help a smirk. "It's all in the tone."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'll have to find a—"

Severus cut her off with a kiss, his arms coming up around her and rubbing down the bare skin of her back. Hermione shuddered against him at the unexpected pleasure that brought on, and he did it again, this time running his hands up her sides. The contact made her ache to have him against her, but she contained herself and simply kissed him back.

He tasted her in much the same intense way he had earlier—demanding and fierce, leaving her panting with need. His hands worked their magic over her body, slipping underneath the strap of her bra here, caressing her shoulder blade there. She shifted until she was flat against him and moved against the bulge between her legs, making him groan much the way she was. His hands tightened around her and he bucked up against her, eliciting a yelp of delighted surprise.

Hermione gasped with pleasure as his lips trailed down her neck, smoothing over her flesh and making her want more. She moved against him again, rubbing in just the right place to ease the ache a bit. She bit her lip as she moaned, but he'd already noticed her particular enjoyment. He repeated the action from below until she was digging her nails into his shoulders and sliding against him vigorously. Even though layers of clothing separated them, she could feel her body responding to him.

Severus slid her bra strap down her shoulder, nibbling at the skin there and soothing it with delicious kisses. His other hand rose up her back and she gasped when she felt him tug the clasp loose, but he didn't move to remove her bra. Instead, he waited and kept kissing her, as though waiting to see how she would react. When she shrugged the other strap off her shoulder, he gave a hungry growl and peeled it off, flinging it aside. She saw a flash of orange as Crookshanks fled, but her attention drifted back to Severus when she realized she was now half-naked.

Hermione flushed, her confidence suddenly gone with the bra, but the heated look he gave her was enough to wash away most of her embarrassment. He pushed up against her again and kissed her fully, hands trailing up her sides in a sweet caress, before finally smoothing over her breasts. She moaned into his mouth and he spread his kisses over her neck and along her collarbone, gradually lowering his lips as his thumbs circled her breasts.

He kissed her bare skin and then his tongue laved over her breast, and she heard an almost animalistic groan of passion hit the air. It was only after he continued exploring her that she realized it had been her. She'd never heard herself make that sort of noise before, never even knew she was capable of it, but it seemed to excite Severus all the more.

The grinding of their hips increased in speed and he tightened his grip on her back, even as she dug her nails into his shoulders. She longed to have his skin against hers, but she didn't dare touch the buttons on his shirt. For one thing, she didn't want to rush him. For another, she didn't want him to shove her off. Instead she moaned and enjoyed the affection he was lavishing on her, driving her mad with need as he drove up against her.

The sensations swirled around her—the feel of his hands against her back, his mouth on her breast, his arousal between her legs, pushing against just the right spot—until darkness swept over her and she gave a small cry at the overwhelming, chaotic ecstasy that overtook her. She slumped against him, gasping for air, then flushed as she realized what had just happened.

Severus pulled up and met her eyes, brow arched in silent query. Hermione could only blush, and he groaned, pulling her flat up against him and groaning with what she could only assume was his own release. She held him tight, stroking his hair and trying to regain her bearings as he crushed her against him. After a moment, he spread kisses over her chest and neck again, eventually finding her mouth and kissing her twice.

"That was…." She swallowed and he waited, caressing her hair back from her face. "I can't imagine how wonderful the real thing must be, then."

Severus smirked and kissed her again. "You'll know, soon enough," he promised lowly. "Now, I believe we must rest."

Hermione nodded and swallowed again, slowly climbing out of his lap. He rose with her, eyeing her greedily as she stood before him. She felt another blush coming on and hunted for her bra, slipping it on again before they went up for some well-deserved sleep.

* * *

The first thing Hermione was aware of when she woke was that the bed was empty of anyone but her. Crookshanks was sleeping on the floor, limbs splayed out in that odd way he had, but Severus was nowhere in sight. She panicked at first, wondering if she'd overslept, but her watch told her she was waking up a little early, in fact. Then she panicked because he was gone. She wondered if she'd done something wrong that night, or if she'd displeased him somehow. Then the loo flushed.

Hermione sighed and relaxed into her pillow, satisfied now. Her bathroom door creaked open and she felt the weight of the bed shift as he crawled in next to her, pressing in around her. He pressed a kiss to her neck, then her shoulder, and rested back behind her with a contented sigh. She smiled.

"Mm…I don't suppose there's any chance we could do some more…exploring this morning, is there?" Hermione asked, stretching a bit.

Severus chuckled, tightening his arms around her. "Unfortunately not. Breakfast will begin soon, and you shouldn't miss meals."

She sighed. "Oh, all right. And tonight we can't because of our practice sessions," she said glumly.

He kissed her cheek. "We could always cancel."

Hermione laughed. "What happened to 'it would arouse suspicion'?" When he only smirked, she added, "Besides, I like practicing with you and talking to you."

"As do I," he agreed, and she enjoyed the feeling of his words rumbling in his chest.

She smiled, then frowned. "And Saturday is the stupid party," she groused.

"There is always that night," he reminded her.

"Yes, but parties always leave me exhausted. That's our reading night, anyway." She sighed. "There is always Sunday, though…."

He kissed her neck again. "Sunday it is."

"If Marius doesn't decide to interrupt our plans that day," Hermione muttered, glaring into space. "He seems to enjoy doing that."

Severus chuckled again. "That's not surprising, considering he wants us dead. However, if he interrupts us once more, I may have to kill him, rather than offering him to the authorities."

She laughed. "Oh, don't do that. If you go to Azkaban, you can't sleep with me, and then _I_ can't sleep, and it's just horrible."

"It sounds it. I suppose I will just have to stay around, then," he purred, leaning over her to give her a lingering kiss.

She squirmed her feet down under the blankets, trying to regain some warmth, and grinned at him when he pulled back. He wasn't wearing his socks.


	29. Secrets: Part Four

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N:** Gah! Real Life is determined to make me late every week, I swear. I got a short break and then boom! Swamped. So, sorry this is late. I hope you enjoy. Oh, and also, I'm aware that it's not canon that Severus created Skele-Gro, but it was the first one that popped into my head.

* * *

Friday passed by with what felt like half the speed of a normal day. Hermione kept trying to focus on the reading she was doing, the spells she was practicing, but her mind would always wander off to what Severus was doing. And, inevitably, to her excitement and anxiety about Sunday. Several times throughout the day, she seriously considered sneaking into his classroom, just to be around him.

But, there was Tonks to dodge, for one thing. For another, that would be completely insane. So, instead, she focused on what she was doing and chatted idly with Tonks, glancing at her watch every five seconds. Or at least that's what it felt like.

By the end of dinner, her knee was bouncing so quickly it was vibrating the table. Ron and Lavender didn't notice, since they were a bit busy, but the others kept staring at her and exchanging amused glances. Ginny even stole a crisp from her plate at one point, just to see if she'd notice. Hermione did, of course, but she ignored the girl in favor of glancing at her watch again.

"Well, you're a bit strung-out this evening," Harry observed genially.

Hermione jumped. "What?"

"Something special planned tonight?" Ginny added teasingly.

She scoffed. "You know I just have a practice session with Severus tonight."

"Is Tonks tagging along?" Neville asked.

"No. I'll be with a professor, so apparently having a bodyguard is unnecessary at those times," she replied impatiently, tapping her fork on her plate.

"You must be pleased," Ginny said, still in that teasing tone. "You get Snape all to yourself."

"What are you talking about? We're alone all the—" she cleared her throat "—times I have practice sessions."

"You just seem particularly anxious about this one," Harry commented, still smiling at her.

"Are things going anywhere with you two?" Neville asked interestedly.

"What? No. H-he still wants to wait until the end of the year." _That's sort of true_. "I'm just excited about the new spell I'm going to try."

They all deflated, looking resigned to hearing about a spell for the next half hour of dinner. So she obliged them. After all, she really was excited about the spell, and who was she to disappoint an expectant audience?

* * *

The practice session was pure torture. The two of them couldn't stop touching one another and watching one another. Where Severus used to keep his distance and demonstrate a spell by example, now he showed her manually, standing behind her and directing her hands with his. And where Hermione used to keep her focus on her task, now she couldn't stop staring at him. He'd catch her, of course, and they'd end up snogging for several minutes before finally admitting that it was practice time.

Hermione couldn't wait for Sunday. Presently, she was heading to Hogsmeade with her friends in tow. Draco had gone ahead already to set things up, and at ten sharp, she was supposed to lure Ginny away to 'the loo' and bring her to him. Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was chuckling at her brother's animated imitation of Harry's failed attempt at a corkscrew at practice the night before.

Well, hopefully Ginny would be more receptive today. She seemed a bit happier with Draco the day before, at least, if not all the way frolicking-through-the-daises happy. Hermione shook her head.

Madam Rosmerta gave Ron the key to the party room they were renting for the party, and they all got to work setting up. Seamus and Dean brought their Wizard Wireless with its extra large speakers in and set it up in the corner, while Lavender and Parvati got started on the punch. Ron and the other boys set up the tables and the girls removed shrinking spells from the food after setting it on the table. Dobby and the other house-elves had made a generous contribution to their food supply, according to Ron.

Hermione was set to working on the decorations with Hannah since, according to Neville, they could come up with something tasteful yet fun together. Hannah would, of course, be supplying the fun. Hermione kept an eye on the time, as well as Ginny—who was setting up food—as the time wound down to when she would have to deliver her to Draco. She knew his excuse had been that he would meet Ginny at the party later, but Hermione almost thought that he should've set up the night before and come with her.

Of course, this way it was more of a surprise. And with Ginny's wavering opinion that he was cheating on her, boy was it going to be a shock. Hermione hoped she could stick around long enough to see the realization and the look on Ginny's face. It was going to be priceless, she was sure.

Once she and Hannah finished with decorating, Seamus cranked up the Wizard Wireless and the party got started. Students, invited and uninvited, wandered into the room and socialized. A few danced around the wireless, many just hung around the punch bowl and chatted. Hermione waved hello to a couple of people, but she was too anxious about the time to really talk. Instead she took care of making sure everyone had some punch.

Soon it was so crowded she was glad to be on the other side of the table. Of course, it made it difficult to keep an eye on Ginny, but it wasn't hard to find the red head once she was in the throng. Hermione threaded her way through the crowd and cupped Ginny's elbow to get her attention. She jumped and smiled at her.

"Hey! I didn't think our 'Making Up Ditching on Hermione' party was going to be this popular," Ginny shouted above the noise.

Hermione laughed. "Well, you know how this school is. If there are three students, there are four. If there're four, there're five, and so on."

Ginny chuckled. "True. But I still don't think I know half the people in here."

"I was actually heading to get some air. You want to come?" she offered, jerking her head toward the door.

"Sounds good," she shouted back.

Hermione smiled and lead her through the crowd, breaking a path for her. Harry was too busy dancing with Luna to notice them slipping away, and Ron was too busy entertaining. He kept getting up on one of the tables and giving mock-speeches, which had those gathered roaring. Neville was romancing Hannah by the punch bowl. Or his version of romancing, which meant a great deal of blushing and stuttering. Luckily for him, it was rather cute, and Hannah seemed quite involved.

Hermione thanked Merlin for her luck when they escaped the Three Broomsticks without incident and went on to the next part of her mission. She asked Ginny how practice had gone and she was off, chattering so busily about how great the next match would be that she didn't even notice when they passed Dervish and Banges. A chaperone might've stopped them, but Flitwick and Sinistra were fortunately elsewhere.

It wasn't until Hermione started down one of the hiking trails that Ginny noticed something was amiss. She grabbed her sleeve and frowned in confusion.

"Where are we going?"

"Come on, you'll see," she urged, ushering her along.

"But—"

"Just trust me. You'll like it," Hermione assured her, smiling.

Ginny frowned, but she went along with it anyway, growing quieter by the minute. Hermione knew why. Draco told her that this spot he'd chosen to propose to Ginny at was the very first place he kissed her. Hermione thought it was very sweet, if a little clichéd, that he'd chosen this spot. Finally, Hermione turned the bend and heard Ginny gasp behind her.

Draco was waiting on the bench at the side of the path, and he was surrounded by a garden of flowers: roses, lilies, tulips, lilacs, etc.. He'd spent the entire morning planting and blooming them so they would be just right. Hermione helped him brew the potion that would accelerate their growth without damaging them. She smiled at the shocked look on Ginny's face and gave her a brief hug.

"Told you you'd like it," Hermione teased, then shot a smile at Draco and strode back down the path.

* * *

Ginny glanced after Hermione, who trudged off humming to herself. She seemed unaware of her habit of doing that lately. Ginny shook her head and turned back to the veritable Eden Draco had created for her. He stood, brushing off his robes, and smiled nervously. His ears were going pink, like they always did when he was embarrassed or anxious.

"Draco…wha-what's going on?" she blurted, looking around at all the beautiful flowers in awe.

"Well, I…sit down," he said nervously, taking her hand.

She let him lead her to the bench and sat obediently, still holding his hand. Draco gave a shaky sigh and rubbed his palms on his robes, easing down next to her. He took her hand again in both of his and smiled affectionately at her, warming her down to her toes.

"I know I haven't been paying a-a whole lot of attention to you lately," he began, swallowing. "I'm really sorry."

She started. "Oh, Draco, if that's what this is about, you really didn't have to—"

"No, no. I-I mean, I'm still sorry, but that's not what I did this for," he cut in, smiling weakly. "I know that…other blokes you've been out with haven't treated you right, went out behind your back and all. So I am deeply sorry if I made you think I don't love you anymore. Because I do."

Ginny couldn't help a small smile. "I love you, too."

Draco flashed a grin at her and took another deep breath. "You are the reason I am who I am. You made me see things that…I just couldn't see before. And you set me free from thinking I had to be just like my father. You're the best thing in my life."

Ginny felt her cheeks going red as his thumb stroked over the back of her hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and smiled at her again.

"So…that's why I want to ask you this." He stood and she watched him in confusion, until he sank to one knee and dug in his pocket.

Ginny's heart pounded in her chest and she could scarcely breathe. Was he really? Was—oh, yes, he definitely was. A diamond that large couldn't possibly mean anything else. She tried to keep herself from bouncing on the spot. She was so filled with excitement in that moment she thought she might laugh, or cry, or throw up. It turned out she ended up doing the first two at the same time.

Draco grinned. "I know I'll regret it forever if I don't ask you now to spend the rest of your life with me. Ginny, will you marry me?"

She squealed and, before she knew it, she was in his arms and he was laughing with her. He held her tight and kissed her cheek, rubbing her back as she half-laughed, half-sobbed in his arms. When she pulled back, he smiled and kissed her, and she wanted to have him right there, but he pulled back and grinned again.

"So, that's a…?" he teased.

"Yes, yes! Of course I will!" she exclaimed, kissing him feverishly. "Oh, I love you!"

Draco paused for a moment, cupping her cheek and stroking her gently with his thumb. He looked at her adoringly and she smiled warmly up at him. He took the ring from the box, closing it and stuffing it back in his pocket. Deliberately, he took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. She sighed contentedly at the sight of it.

"I love you, too," he said firmly, and then they were kissing again.

* * *

Hermione watched the door anxiously, hoping they would come back soon. If Ginny had said yes, they would want some time alone, of course. And if she'd said no, neither of them would want to be around anyone. Still, she wanted them to come back. She was so anxious to hear the verdict.

"Are you hoping the cows will come home, or…?" a familiar voice asked from behind her.

She turned and grinned. "Asher! I didn't know you were here!"

His typical smile widened, though he was blushing. "Yeah, uh, your friend Ron invited me and I-I brought Jessica."

"Oh." She glanced behind him, where the brunette was chatting with a couple of Ravenclaws. "Is this like a…date-type thing, or…?"

His cheeks reddened even more and she grinned.

"Well, I'm happy for you," Hermione assured him, smiling warmly.

"Really?" Asher glanced back at Jessica. "I mean, you don't have to be. I didn't really tell you I was over you, and that wasn't—"

"Hey, when you thought I was dating Professor Snape, you told me you were," she cut in sternly. "In a way. And I understand not being ready to be full-time friends again. Although, I have missed you." She smiled.

His grin grew. "I missed you, too."

"So, now that you have a new belle, can we be full-time?" she teased.

"Of course we can," he replied, shaking her free hand. "Can't live without my translator." He winked.

She grinned. "Speaking of which, how is Transfiguration going for you? Do we need tutoring time again?"

He shifted uncomfortably, but she was pleased to see that his everlasting smile never went away.

"Well, it's going…dismally," he said honestly, chuckling. "But we don't have to tutor again. I can just ask you if I have a question that me and Jessica can't figure out, right?"

Hermione smiled. "Any time."

He grinned back and they turned to observe the crowd.

"So…how did you land a girl like Jessica?" she teased, winking.

"Actually, she landed me," Asher replied.

"Oh? And how did she manage that?"

"Quite literally, actually. That day I was supposed to help her with her Pygmy Puff, actually…let's just say her powers of persuasion are pretty strong." He paused and she nodded, understanding. "And boy, is she strong. She smacked a kiss on me and bam! Hit the floor."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head at him. "So, since then, huh?"

"Well, no. After that, I, uh, took off running. Cause, you know, women tackling you to the ground is a scary business. I was afraid it was like one of those nature stories you hear about, where the lion is all after the antelope and then when it actually gets caught, it's really disgusting, with all the blood and all that?"

She was still laughing, but she smacked him lightly upside the head. He grinned at her.

"You boys," she scolded, but she winked.

"Hey, you women have no idea how frightening you are. I could've been torn to bits. And then, a few days later, she cornered me in the loo and told me to stop being a pansy. So I tackled _her_ to the floor. With a Cushioning Charm though. The floors are really hard around here."

Hermione shook her head at him, grinning, and she was about to reply when someone whistled from the door. She peered through the crowd as the music turned down and the chatter halted. She grinned when she spied Draco and Ginny at the door. Draco was holding her from behind, grinning like an idiot, and Ginny was practically bouncing.

Ginny lifted her hand and squealed, "We're engaged!"

There was an explosion of talk and the music boomed again, and from then on it was the 'Ginny and Draco Engagement Party.'

* * *

"Legs! You look dead," Loki told Hermione sagely.

She smirked up at him and readjusted the strap on her shoulder as she walked the last few steps to his portrait.

"Well, I just partied with my friends in Hogsmeade for about five hours, and then Ginny dragged me to Madam Malkin's to get started on my maid of honor dress, even though they can't get married for a couple more years, and then we came back here for dinner and I was just about to relax when a food fight started," Hermione explained, thinking to make sure she'd included everything. "And I may have been a little drunk earlier. So, yes, I'm a little tired."

Loki grinned. "Not too exhausted for a little nooky with the professor, I hope."

"Oh, don't worry. I still intend on bringing out the shackles," she replied, winking. "By the way, your extra portrait is lovely."

Severus finally managed to coerce Dumbledore into giving him a second portrait, which was, oddly enough, a prison scene. There were manacles on the wall and it was rather dark, but Loki loved it. He found its kinkiness very appealing.

"Oh, isn't it?" He stepped into it and took another drink of his wine. "I'm hoping to get your boy to convince Midget to put in like a saucy brunette guard. With a whip."

Hermione laughed. "Good luck."

He grinned and hopped back into his portrait. "Thanks!"

"Lascivious. Have a good night!"

"You, too, Legs," he called, waggling his eyebrows.

Hermione chuckled and tossed her bag to the floor upon entering the room. She did a quick sweep as she was taking off her robe and froze in mid-motion. She grinned and abandoned that idea, instead rushing to meet Severus on the other side of the couch. He rose and met her halfway, holding her to him as she kissed him frantically.

As usual, the height difference made it difficult, but he hunched down and gathered her up to him. He delved his tongue into her mouth and she was on fire again. His hands traveled up her sides and he peeled the robe off for her, forcing her to abandon cupping his cheeks. She heard the robe land somewhere to her right, and then he took her hips and pulled her against him again. She moaned at the feeling of him against her belly again, but she forced herself to pull away for air.

"I'm never, ever going to Hogsmeade again," she panted, leaning her forehead against his.

She felt the vibrations against her chest as Severus chuckled, and she sighed contentedly.

"And why not?" he purred, pressing a teasing kiss to her jaw.

"Because it's an evil, evil place where there are no Severuses to be found," Hermione answered, and then kissed him again.

He chuckled against her mouth this time and heaved her up in his arms, letting her wrap her legs around his waist. He somehow found his way back to the couch and lowered her onto it, moving to kiss her neck as she hugged him close, unwilling to let go. She moaned and then sighed, still feeling drained from her trip, despite the fire coursing through her.

"Reading night, remember?" Hermione said quietly.

He grunted and lifted his head, placing a last kiss on her lips. "Of course."

"Tomorrow," she murmured reassuringly, running her fingers through the ends of his hair.

He nodded in agreement and leaned his forehead against hers before standing up straight. He offered a hand to help her to her feet, which she took, and they headed for the bookcase. She quickly plucked the book she was currently reading off the shelf and stepped back while he chose. She glanced around the room, frowning.

"I wonder where Crookshanks is," she muttered.

"Probably in your bedroom—"

"_Our_ bedroom," she blurted.

He smirked and placed his hand on her side, just above the hip. "Our bedroom, hiding and hoping I will cease to exist."

He ushered her away, book in hand, and Hermione smacked his arm playfully.

"He does not hate you," she said firmly. "He's just not—"

"Used to me. I know," Severus said patiently. "But it's been weeks."

"Well…maybe I'll order one of those cat manuals they sell in the Magical Menagerie," she said thoughtfully, sinking onto the couch. "I've never had to before, but maybe the experts can help. They might have some sort of home-remedy to your cat hating your…." He eyed her as he sat. "Um…Potions Master." She smiled, pleased with this title.

He smirked, eyes glittering with amusement. "Is that what you called Krum and that Muggle boy, as well?" he asked wryly.

"No," she replied, smiling. "I called Viktor my date and Thomas my boyfriend. But…we don't date, exactly, and boyfriend is…it's…." She shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" he prompted, waiting expectantly.

"Silly," Hermione concluded.

Again, he smirked. "Not too silly for your Muggle boy."

"No. I'm sorry, I just can't call you that," she said, sighing. "You're too…I don't know. You're too impressive for that kind of word." She nodded, satisfied with that, and opened up her book.

"What do you think of me as, then?" Severus interrupted, sounding genuinely interested.

She paused. "Um…I-I just think of you as Severus, I guess." When he looked away, she jumped to explain. "It's hard to think of a label for you. I mean, boyfriend is silly. You're not a boy, and while I think we're friends, I just don't think 'manfriend' sounds right. Date is untrue and silly. Husband is…just plain untrue. What else is there? Oh, lover? I feel uncomfortable just saying it casually.

"There just isn't a label out there for you. I mean, you're Severus. You're the man I love. You're it. There's no one word to describe you and how I feel about you."

Severus lifted a hand, brushing it gently against her cheek. She smiled and leaned into his touch, eager to cuddle against him and read.

"We are friends," he told her, quietly.

She grinned, pleased, and he lifted his arm to welcome her into the arc of his body. She eagerly melted against him and opened her book, placing a kiss to the nearest part of him she could find. Severus rubbed her shoulder and flipped open his book, sighing in what she hoped was a contented manner as they started reading.

* * *

It had been tricky getting on top of the bookcase, but Crookshanks managed it. The best part was, neither the Bastard nor Hermione even noticed he was up there. Which meant they wouldn't suspect anything. Since his 'from the floor' approach hadn't worked, Crookshanks decided it was time for an air strike. If he got high enough where the Bastard couldn't see him, he could lunge from above. He didn't stand a chance.

Crookshanks bided his time, waiting while Hermione and the Bastard snuggled on the couch, reading late into the night. Hermione used to cuddle with _him_ while she did that. And now the Bastard had taken that away from him, too. He narrowed his eyes.

Hermione went upstairs to change after they were done reading, and the Bastard was currently re-shelving the books they'd been reading. As long as he didn't look up, this was the perfect time. Crookshanks crept along the edge of the bookcase, watching as the Bastard arched a brow at some of the books and pulled them off the shelf. He examined the cover and flipped it open.

No waiting this time. _Now!_ Crookshanks leapt through the air, directly down at the Bastard.

"Hermione?" the Bastard called, and Crookshanks hit the floor hard as he walked away.

_Damn YOU!!! Damn you all to HELL!!!_ Crookshanks yowled angrily at the Bastard, but he didn't turn around. He just kept heading up the stairs. Crookshanks cleaned his paws with dignity and glared after him. He would get him. One of these days.

"What is this?" the Bastard asked as he pushed open the door.

Maybe it was time to go back to an old classic. Crookshanks would just have to bide his time.

* * *

Hermione turned and pulled her hair out from under her nightgown.

"What is what?" she asked, smiling briefly at him.

"This." Severus handed over a book with no title, and she recognized it immediately. She blushed and tucked it close to her chest, swallowing.

"Uh…th-this is one of the journals I kept last year. For notes about improvements and such?" Hermione felt her cheeks reddening as he watched her. "On spells an-and things like that. I-I sort of forgot about them when the Veritaserum thing happened, and I haven't added to them since last year. They're silly, really. I should probably just pitch them, but—"

"You improved your classes with these notes, from what I've heard," he cut in, a tad harshly. "How is that 'silly'?"

"Oh, I-I don't know. I'm no professional, I guess, is-is all I really mean," she managed, clearing her throat and trying to swallow down the embarrassment.

Severus gave her a long-suffering look. "You should know very well by now that 'professionals' do not always have a clue what they're talking about. You, on the other hand, do. I skimmed your pages, and what I saw wasn't 'silly.'"

Hermione managed a tiny smile. "Thank you." She sighed and went to take the book back downstairs. "Now, I gu—"

"I wasn't finished," he said firmly, and she felt the strongest urge to drop into a nonexistent chair.

But, since that would probably hurt, instead she turned on her heel and froze, waiting studiously for him to continue.

"Just the fact that you were able to improve your classes is evidence that your theories are worth something," Severus said, frowning. "It might be prudent of you to consider publishing texts on your improvements, and therefore enhance our education system."

Hermione paled. "Oh, no, I-I couldn't possibly! I-I'm good at reading books. Ask me to do that! O-or memorize one. Take notes on one. Take care of one. I-I can't write one." She shook her head rapidly.

He eyed her, lips twitching. "You seem terribly unsure of yourself for a Know-It-All," he purred.

She sighed and frowned up at him. "Look, knowledge? I'm sure of. I know a lot of things, but as I told you once, I never claimed to know everything. Why on earth do you think I ask so many questions?"

"Hermi—"

"And anyway," she continued, ignoring the frown he was giving her now, "you should know pretty well by now that I'm extremely insecure about some things. Particularly my theories about improvements that may have been flukes. It's one thing when I've memorized something in a textbook; it's totally different when I made it up myself."

He was watching her seriously now, scowling a bit. "Why? You don't trust your own mind?"

She shrugged, watching her feet. "I don't know. I know I'm smart, but…I never really started _thinking_ until the Half-Blood Prince came along. Everyone expected me to know things so…I did. No one expected me to think." She smiled sheepishly. "Well, except you. But you didn't exactly have the clearest way of saying it."

"Then, for once, I am grateful for my childhood," he said smoothly, drawing her eyes. He smirked. "Now, if only you would believe me when I say that you should have no obstacle in writing a textbook."

She shook her head, smiling a little. "I'm not a very talented writer."

He scoffed. "Do you think I read through your rather extensive essays purely out of a desire to find mistakes?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Yes?"

He gave her another look. "If it had been that dull, I'd have written a 'P' and been done with it."

She couldn't help it: she grinned and bounced on her heels. "Really?"

"Don't get too ecstatic—I was also determined to catch a mistake," he said flatly.

She still smiled, but it faded when she remembered what they were talking about.

"Oh, but I can't write a book!" she protested, turning to put the book away again.

Severus followed her at a casual pace. "Why not?"

"I don't know what I'm talking about," she said irritably. "All I have are a bunch of journals with silly notes in them. They barely make any sense, and, if anything, they belong in a new edition of old textbooks." She shelved the book and sighed, folding her arms.

"Then why have you kept them?" he inquired, from closer behind than she remembered him being.

"I don't know. I had to give your book back to you, and…I don't know," she mumbled, huffing. "Why do you want me to do this so badly, anyway? Isn't this more of what irritates you about me? My tendency to 'show off'?" She couldn't keep the bite out of her voice.

"Do not let my failure to see you properly in the past color our relationship now," Severus replied, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Yes, I thought you flaunted your talent. Now I see you were merely desperate to prove yourself." He sighed and she felt him shift closer. "As to why I want you to do this…I think you would enjoy it."

She turned around, melting a little. "Really? You think about that?"

He arched a brow at her, giving her a look that left her with no doubts as to his answer. She smiled weakly, then sighed. Write a textbook? It still sounded surreal, but then…. She loved sharing her knowledge. And anything that could improve the education system was a good idea. Not that Hogwarts wasn't already wonderful, but Severus had a point. If she could make improvements, then there were clearly things to be improved upon.

Still, it wasn't like she had any real background that would make people want to listen to her. Other than being Harry Potter's best friend, somewhat of a war heroine, and a nearly straight 'O' student, she didn't have that many credentials. Of course, she would when she became Mistress of Transfiguration, Charms, and Arithmancy, but if she did the textbook on Potions….

Hermione's eyes lit up and she smiled at him. "Then you have to write it with me."

Severus' eyebrows shot up and then he scoffed. "Hermione, please."

He stalked away and she followed him as he'd followed her.

"Just the Potions one!" she assured him. "You wouldn't have to do any of the others, I swear. And you wouldn't even have to write-write, just like…advise me! An-and we could try out potions and make even more improvements and put them in the book, too."

His response to that was to grunt.

"You really don't have to if you don't want to," she told him sincerely. "I just…well, first of all, I won't be a Potions Mistress. Who's going to believe me if I say a quarter cup of crushed daisy petals is better than two cups of runespoor egg yolk?"

He paused on the top step and turned to frown at her. "What on earth are you making?"

Hermione sighed. "That's not the point. The point is, you're a Potions Master—a respected one! I mean, you created Skele-Gro, for Merlin's sake!"

"How did you—"

"I've gotten fairly talented at digging thoroughly in my years of researching things for Harry," she said dismissively. "Anyway, the other reason is that…well, it would be fun. For us to do something like that. Together. But I…still understand if you don't want to." She smiled.

He heaved a sigh, frowning back. "Now you leave me no choice."

She laughed. "I mean it! You really don't have to if you don't want to."

After a long moment, he descended the steps and met her on the landing. He frowned down at her and she waited expectantly, almost bouncing with anticipation. He was killing her with the suspense, really.

"Very well," he growled. "But I am only advising you. And I expect a favor in return."

"What kind of favor?" she asked excitedly.

"The potion I told you about months ago is nearly finished. However, it hasn't been tested on an unbiased person whom I can keep an eye on," he grumbled grudgingly.

"Of course," she said before he could finish.

He eyed her, looking a tad surprised, and she couldn't help but laugh a little. She kissed him briefly and strode up the stairs past him. It took a moment, but then he was at her side, wearing that expression that told her he was pleased.

* * *

"Would you move?" a voice rumbled from behind her. "You're going to suffocate her."

Hermione's face was very hot for some reason. She blinked blearily and found a world of orange directly before her. She nearly jerked back when she realized that doing so would probably cause her to break Severus' nose. The orange shook and then Crookshanks growled—that sickening way cats did.

"Don't give me that look, you little cretin. _Move_."

Hermione sighed and shoved Crookshanks' rump out of her face. He grumbled unhappily and stalked away, hopping off the bed with an indignant yowl. She shook her head with a yawn and patted Severus' arm, which hung limply over her side.

"He's very stubborn," she told him tiredly.

He grunted. "I noticed." The sneer in his voice slithered away when he kissed her cheek and said, "Good morning."

She smiled and stretched. "Morning. How did you sleep?"

"Other than that creature's intrusions, fine. You?" He trailed his lips down her cheek, over her jaw, and down the line of her neck as he spoke, whispering across her skin. She shivered.

"Mmm…pretty well." She paused and, after a breath, said, "So, it's Sunday."

"Indeed," he murmured, too busy finding the sensitive spot just below her ear to say more than that.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed contentedly, squeezing his arm once encouragingly. He tightened his arm around her and tugged her close against him, making her shudder when she felt his arousal against her. She pressed kisses to the arm looped under her neck, and he seemed about to raise the stakes when he paused, moving to press a kiss to her cheek again instead.

"You need breakfast," Severus reminded her.

She laughed. "You say that every morning," she teased.

"It's true every morning," he shot back, but he was smirking.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me," she replied, then winked and turned to kiss his cheek.

She promptly scooted forward to hop out of bed, but the arm around her waist yanked her back—almost playfully. She laughed and turned over, grinning up at him when he slid half-over her body. He idly caressed the hair at her temples, running his fingers through her bountiful hair in a rather soothing manner.

"What happened to needing breakfast?" Hermione asked impishly, grinning.

"We'll attend to that after I've received my payments," he rumbled.

Confusion flickered over her features. "Payme—"

And then he kissed her full on the lips, and they didn't speak for some time after that.

* * *

Draco was sitting at the Gryffindor table when Hermione entered the Great Hall. She couldn't believe her eyes at first, but there he was—arm around Ginny, chatting with their group. Seamus and Dean were giving him skeptical looks, as were most of the Gryffindors at the table, but the lovebirds ignored them. Hermione slid into a spot next to Neville and glanced up at the High Table briefly. No Severus yet.

"You switch Houses without telling anyone?" Hermione asked the Quidditch-engrossed Slytherin.

He grinned at her. "No, of course not. I just figure, all the time I can spend with Ginny is good. Should've done it before."

She smiled. "That's great."

She glanced at some of the other tables—Luna was staring into space and the older Slytherins looked so stunned she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. At the Hufflepuff table, Asher was sitting next to Jessica and holding his head, looking horribly hungover. He was still smiling, through, and he waved at her when he noticed her looking. She chuckled and waved back, offering one to Jessica as well when she looked up.

"How are you this morning?" Harry asked, tossing a smile her way.

"Oh, fine. What are everyone's plans for today?" she asked eagerly.

She was secretly hoping they would all be too incredibly busy to bother with her, but that was hardly ever the case. She supposed she'd have to make up some excuse about her projects to put them off. She hated the thought of lying to them again, but she'd promised Severus a month, and they still had a week or so to go.

"I think you know what I'll be doing," Ron said suggestively, making Lavender squeal when he pinched her side teasingly.

"I've got to check on some of my babies," Neville replied absently. "Some of them aren't looking so good lately. I'm hoping no one overwatered them."

"Luna and I are studying," Harry said, shrugging once and turning back to his food.

"And Draco and I are going to spend some quality time together. Some more," Ginny added, grinning. "How about you?"

Hermione shrugged, smiling to herself. "Oh…I'll probably be studying in my room."

* * *

Hermione sighed with pleasure when she hit the bed, scooting up to the head of it when she regained her bearings. Severus followed with his wonderful lips, hovering over top of her, in between her legs. Crookshanks was yowling at the door, but the noise faded to the back of her mind with the feeling of Severus' lips moving down her collarbone.

She moved her hands over the lean muscles of his back, enjoying the feel of them moving as he ground against her. She moaned out encouragingly while he leaned on one hand, using the other to unbutton her shirt. Since she couldn't contribute much without taking his clothes off, she arched her back against him to make up for it and wrapped her legs around his, keeping him close against her, stoking the fire even more.

Severus tugged the last button loose and tossed the sides of her shirt aside, running his hands up her sides and over her ribs, eyeing her hungrily and making her feel beautiful. Before she knew, his mouth was on her stomach, moving up between her breasts. She moaned and escaped her shirt, which she tossed aside. His hands traveled under her arched back, smoothing up between her shoulder blades and reaching for the cla—

"Hermione! Are you here?!"

She let her head drop to the pillow and huffed, moving to wriggle out from under him. Severus was scowling at the door, but he caught her wrist when she went to get off the bed, pulling her back and kissing her fiercely. She pried herself away after a few moments of no self-control.

"I have to, or she won't go away," she whispered, caressing his cheeks lovingly. "I'll be back."

He grunted. "Can't you tell that damned portrait not to let anyone in?"

She tied the sash on her robe. "I thought I did! But Ginny can be very persuasive."

She cracked open the door and peeked out. Ginny smiled widely.

"Hi!" she said. "I—"

"Hi. Aren't you supposed to be…you know, with Draco?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Yes, but he had to go to Quidditch practice for a couple hours and I realized that I forgot my book in here the other night," she explained happily.

Hermione shut the door before she could say another word and dug through her desk until she found the Charms book, which she lifted in victory once she found it. Severus was lying back on the bed, ankles crossed, and looking rather put out. She opened the door and handed Ginny the book.

"Oh, thanks, um—"

"You're welcome."

Hermione shut the door again and smiled at Severus, moving on to the end of the bed and starting to crawl up to—

Another knock. Hermione huffed and glared at the door, clambered off the bed, and whipped it open again. Just enough for Ginny to see herself, of course.

"What?" Hermione demanded, frowning.

"I just wondered if you wanted to hang out or…something," Ginny said, still cheerful.

"Ginny, right now is really not a good time," she told her seriously.

"Oh. Well, okay. I guess I'll see you later." She smiled.

"Yes. Bye."

Hermione shut the door again, this time waiting a moment to listen for more knocking. Fortunately, she heard Loki's portrait shut a few moments later. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to Severus, who arched his brow expectantly.

"Was that too harsh?" she asked, feeling a little guilty.

"No," he said flatly.

She smiled and came back to the bed. She hovered over top of him and sat over his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders and moving to press a kiss to his lips. When she saw that he was still scowling with his arms folded, she pulled back.

"Do you still want to?" she asked hesitantly, hoping she wanted to hear the answer.

Rather than replying verbally, however, Severus snatched her up and pulled her so she was straddling him perfectly and kissed her again. He deftly untied her sash between them and threw the robe aside as though it had personally offended him, and soon she was so caught up in his hands and lips and the fire he inspired in her that she completely forgot Ginny had even been there.

* * *

Ginny flopped on her four-poster bed, ignoring Julia's screeching bat in favor of wondering what on earth was going on with Hermione. Hermione was never normally that…well, rude. She had been impatient before, yes, but she'd never slammed a door in Ginny's face so many times in a row. From the looks of it, she'd also been in her bathrobe. Which…she could've just said she was taking a bath, right? Besides, Hermione didn't usually get into 'comfy clothes' for studying.

And Crookshanks had been looking at Ginny like he'd been scorned. He'd even rubbed up against her legs for some love. Hermione didn't shut Crookshanks out of the room. Also, she'd been in such a good mood at breakfast, if a little anxious. So what was going on with her?

Ginny sighed and shook her head, flipping open her book. If Hermione wanted to tell her, she would. No pushing about secrets ever, ever again.

* * *

Before Hermione knew it, Severus was on top of her again, kissing her and moving up against her and caressing her bare breasts. She held him tight, moaning for more, but then he pulled up. Hermione frowned, puzzled, but before she could ask him a question, he took her hand and brought it to the first button of his shirt. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him—half in surprise, half for confirmation. His expression was grim, but he nodded.

She eagerly went about the duty of unbuttoning, trying to slow down and take her time. It was difficult when her heart was pounding so hard. She'd imagined it so many times it was making her a little dizzy with desire. She caught peeks of pale skin and black hair, but it wasn't until she had the last button that Severus finally obliged her in removing the shirt. He sat next to her, looking awkward and uncomfortable, but she hardly noticed.

She drank in the sight of him greedily, desperate to touch him, but afraid that if she did he would disappear and she imagined it all. His chest was, for the most part, bare and pale, except for the thin line of hair leading down and disappearing underneath his pants. His muscles weren't all that large, but his toned, lean look made her lick her lips anyway.

It was only when she reached his bare neck that Hermione noticed Severus' uncomfortable expression. She smiled and reached across the space between them, kissing him thoroughly and reassuringly. He battled her for control, but she refused to give it to him this time. Instead she pulled away and smiled at him again, this time moving in and kissing his neck for once. He gave a guttural groan and moved his arms around her.

She relished in the feel of his bare skin on hers, but didn't stop working her mouth over his neck, sliding her lips down to his collarbone and tasting his skin. When she began a line of kisses down the middle of his chest, however, it apparently became too much for him. He cupped her chin and brought her back up to his mouth, rolling her onto her back again and pressing flush against her. She moaned with relief at the feel of his skin on hers and, for the first time, wrapped her arms around his bare skin.

Her nails dug in a bit when his hand started to move over her breasts and down her stomach, traveling achingly slowly toward her skirt. It was at that moment that she noticed the arm holding him up had a thin sleeve-like cloth wrapped around it. Before she could protest the hiding of his Dark Mark from her, he had her lips again and he was easing down her knickers, making her squirm with anticipation and apprehension in equal measure.

Severus pulled back briefly, smirking almost wickedly, and then he began pressing lavish kisses to her neck as he cupped her from below, making her gasp. He teased at her, drawing moans from her lips until she was practically begging for him to give her release. Then he finally slipped a finger into her and the same unrecognizable, animalistic moan of passion escaped her lips as had when they were on the couch, only this was stronger.

His eyes darkened at the sound and he began slowly pumping his finger within her, watching her with intense fascination. She gripped his shoulder tight and felt his heart racing below, pounding an even rhythm against her hand. It was all she could do not to throw caution to the wind and ask him to take her completely, right there.

He drove her to the edge with his maddeningly slow kisses as he pressed them along her neck, face, and chest. She arched her back against his hand and he would only increase his speed by a fraction, teasing her and driving her mad with need. Every gasp and moan he drew from her sated him more and he would reward her with a kiss on the mouth, moving his tongue within her the way he was using his finger below.

Darkness swept over her as it had before at long last and she heard herself give a small cry. The blackness and disorientation lasted a moment longer this time and she was panting, unable to find any words. Severus gently pulled his hand away and rubbed his hands over her, soothing her and kissing her shoulder. When he met her eyes, all Hermione could think was, _I love you_.

It was only when Severus kissed her again that she realized she'd said it out loud.

* * *

The rest of the day was just as delightfully splendid, with long lapses in between their explorations where they would simply lie there and talk. They might've missed lunch and dinner entirely if Severus hadn't insisted on retrieving Hermione something from the kitchens. As it was, she had to inform her friends the next morning that she had been too busy studying to come down and that she'd taken her meals in her room. They bought it, since they knew how she was when it was study-time.

By the end of the day, Severus was getting quite comfortable with the idea of being at least half-naked around her. Particularly since she couldn't seem to stop herself from touching him, tracing circles over his chest and running her hand down his back whenever he got up. She didn't bother mentioning the cloth over the Dark Mark, since that would take time, as well. Although she did wonder why he hadn't used a glamour instead. In the end, she was forced to conclude they didn't work on the Dark Mark.

Tonks and Kingsley came by, as usual, to check her rooms, so Severus went back to his quarters for a while. Although, it actually turned out that he'd gone to the kitchens to retrieve her dessert. She didn't actually get to eat it for some time, since she was a tad involved with kissing him.

Crookshanks was very angry when she finally let him in her rooms. So much so that he ate some of the food from his dish and then immediately stalked out of the room. She caught him before he could get too far, and eventually had him purring and kneading like a good Kneazle. He still gave Severus the odd glare, but she was pleased to find that he hadn't scratched him the next morning. Severus would never be half-naked again if he had, she guessed, so she appreciated that.

Monday was plenty pleasant, particularly since it was spent with McGonagall. Just the fact that she knew and supported her made Hermione happy. They didn't talk about it often, but McGonagall's smiles were all the support she needed for now. Ginny was in such a good mood that she didn't even blink when Hermione apologized for being so rude. Nor did she question her. She only smiled and told her it was all right.

Since Hermione had another paper to do, Monday night was spent half in silence and half in discussion. She also took Severus' sample potion to see if it would sift out the nightmares and not the dreams. She would have to do so for about three weeks, they estimated, just to be sure it was actually cutting out nightmares and she wasn't simply having a nightmare-less night.

Tuesday was much the same, only Hermione cut out of breakfast early to visit Severus again. They were careful not to get too involved this time, but she still trotted off to Flitwick's room with a bounce in her step. Tonks accompanied her to the library and Hermione worked on her paper there for some time before it was time for Tonks and Kingsley to check her room.

Before they could get up there, Asher called for Hermione's attention down the hall.

"Oh, it's just Asher. I'll be up in a bit," she assured Tonks, then strode off to meet him.

Tonks nodded, smiled, and skipped off with a happy hum. Hermione had a feeling Tonks was suspecting she was pregnant, but she hadn't said anything. After all, she might've just been in a good mood, or perhaps she wanted to wait until she was sure.

Hermione shrugged it off. "What's up?"

Asher smiled. "Hey, I'm glad I caught you. I need your help with something."

"Yeah? Are you having trouble with Transfiguration, or…?"

"Well, this is actually more of a…creature trouble," he said slowly, considering his words.

"Oh. You didn't ask Hagrid?" she asked, frowning.

He bobbed his head. "He's down there. He said to ask you to come, so…."

"Oh. Well, let's go then."

She smiled and he offered one in reply and they headed down the hallway. She hoped it didn't take _too_ long. She wanted to be back in time to be able to talk with Severus before bed. Still, it was always nice seeing Hagrid, and she _had_ been neglecting her duties to him of late.

Of course, she'd been rather busy. She was always either working on her final projects, writing a paper, at her apprenticeships, or trying to squeeze in time with Severus or a friend. Ron and Harry assured her that Hagrid understood her obligations, but it wasn't very friend-like of her to overlook him. She would just have to make time for him from now on. She nodded decisively to herself.

Asher normally would've kept up a running commentary from the top of the stairs to Hagrid's hut, but she supposed he was feeling quiet tonight. Maybe he was thinking about Jessica, or he was worried about whatever creature Hagrid was having trouble with. Actually, that was odd in itself. Since when did Hagrid need help with creatures? Maybe he was working on a private project with Asher.

"What kind of creature trouble is this?" she asked genially as they exited the double doors.

Asher looked at her and paused. "It's his dog. Run off, he can't find 'im, so he wanted some help."

"Oh." Hermione frowned when he turned away. Fang didn't usually run off, but maybe he'd seen a rabbit or something. He was known to chase those from time to time, as long as they didn't zig-zag. That terrified him. And why wouldn't Hagrid ask for Harry and Ron, as well? Well, perhaps he wanted to see her. Or knew Harry and Ron would be busy or…something.

She shrugged, but then froze when she saw where Asher was headed.

"Um…you are aware that the Forbidden Forest is…_forbidden_, correct?" she asked, half-teasing.

He turned and grinned, but…it wasn't like his usual grin. It seemed…friendlier usually.

"You've broken that rule a time or two yourself, from what I hear," he replied. "Come on, Hagrid's waiting."

She frowned. "In there?"

Hagrid _never_ made them come in there. Except for things like detention.

"Yeah, it's where the dog went," he said, shrugging. "Come on."

He took her arm and pulled her into the edge of the forest, but she put on the brakes. Now _that_ was really off. Fang didn't like the forest. He only went in if Hagrid did.

"Wait. Maybe Hagrid's gone back to his hut," Hermione suggested tentatively. "We should check there first."

He snatched her arm again, squeezing tight enough to cause her alarm. She grabbed her wand from her pocket and he laughed.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that," he teased, but there was a demanding edge to his voice that she didn't like.

She wrenched out of his grasp and pointed her wand at him, stepping back a few paces.

"You're not Asher," Hermione said certainly, glowering apprehensively at him.


	30. Secrets: Part Five

**Disclaimer:** I'm telling you, I got nothing. Nada.

* * *

'Asher' grinned, and this time all pretenses of friendliness were dropped, leaving behind only maniacal viciousness. Hermione kept her wand on him, attention never shifting.

"Well, well. You _are_ a smart one," he said, but he was no longer using Asher's voice. She recognized its replacement immediately. "Much quicker than I gave you credit for, I must say."

"Where is Asher?" she demanded, tightening her grip on her wand.

He seemed unfazed by it. "By now? Likely fretting that he seems to have lost his clothing." He grinned, picking at imaginary lint on his Hufflepuff robes. "At least he'll learn to keep a better eye out when he decides to break school rules with his girlfriend."

She relaxed just a fraction. At least he hadn't hurt Asher. Still, she couldn't imagine he was having the most wonderful time at the moment. Of course, she was having a much worse time. She glowered at Marius and inched backward. His hand was in his pocket, which meant he had his wand. He wasn't quite as carefree as he was pretending to be.

If she kept him distracted for a moment….

"You used Polyjuice Potion," Hermione said, lowering her wand a bit as though she were relaxing.

"How astute," he replied flatly. "Indeed I did. Had this plan in place for some time now, actually. I was going to use the hair I collected from Potter, but then I realized the flaw."

"What flaw?" She blinked innocently when he eyed her.

"You know him too well, of course. You're too sensitive to the subtle nuances of his behavior. This boy, on the other hand, I could fool you with. Just long enough," he explained irritably, and he paused to roll his eyes. "App—_Protego_." He frowned. "You didn't really think that would work, did you?"

Hermione shrugged, keeping her wand pointed at him once more. "Worth a try."

"Indeed. Now, if you don't mind, I still have a plan to carry out," Marius said impatiently. He laughed when she shuffled backward. "Don't even try it. As soon as you turn your back, I'll put you in a Body Bind, and you can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds."

"You mean there's another person on this planet who knew that?" she retorted, sincerely surprised.

He laughed. It was all wrong coming from Asher's mouth.

"Oh, we are going to have so much fun. Now come along. I don't have _all_ night," he said casually, waving for her to follow.

"You're insane," she announced, not moving an inch.

He bowed. "Thank you, my dear. Made a lifelong career out of it."

Hermione rolled her eyes, keeping her wand on him. "As if it hasn't been done. You have met Bellatrix Lestrange, haven't you? After her, the act gets a bit stale."

He chuckled. "Do be a good girl and come along," he pleaded, smiling. "I don't want to have to make you."

She lifted her chin. "Try."

Marius paused, considering her, then shrugged. "All right." He whipped his wand from his pocket again and exclaimed, "_Imperio_!"

Hermione braced herself when she felt the stiffening strength of the curse settle over her body. She and Harry and Ron had practiced this over and over, ever since fourth year. If she could throw Harry's curse off, she could throw Marius' off. He moved the wand as though to pull her to him and she felt her legs start to obey the command.

Her muscles clenched and her joints ached. She clenched her fists and fought it hard, twisting at the control the curse had on her mind as though to peel it off. She tightened her hard-earned defenses from Occlumency and gave a hard push and suddenly she could breathe again.

Marius' eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hermione swallowed hard, lifting her wand again, and raised her chin defiantly. He smiled suddenly.

"I can see why Severus likes you," he said lowly.

"You won't in a minute," she blurted, and thought, _Levicorpus_.

"_Protego_!" he shouted, leaping to the left.

She moved with him and put up a shield when his wand flicked up. A white flash hit her shield and she tried for a Leg-Locking Curse immediately afterward. He wasn't quick enough this time and his legs stiffened, smacking together. He lost his balance and caught himself on a tree, which he swung himself around before she could follow up the curse.

Hermione frowned and trotted to the other side, hoping to herd him toward the school. She hopped over a tree branch and only had a moment to react when he appeared behind her. She blocked his spell yet again and he moved to the right this time, sending another spell at her that an obliging tree took. She leapt behind another one when that one started shivering, its leaves landing all over her.

She aimed her wand at him again, going for a Body Bind—her personal favorite. He wouldn't be able to remedy that so easily as the Leg-Locker. He ducked behind his tree at the last moment and she waited for him to pop out again. There was only silence to greet her and she tried to slow her breathing and remain calm.

So she was, yet again, crossing wands with a dangerous psychopath. Just two years ago she, Harry, and Ron considered this a typical Friday night. She was just a teensy bit out of practice. Or not.

Marius started to slip out from behind his tree and she hit him impulsively with another of her specialties. Well, at least Marietta Edgecombe wouldn't be alone anymore.

"Wretch!" Marius shouted from behind his tree.

Hermione almost snorted, but she reminded herself to keep focused. Tonks would probably realize she wasn't coming and get down there soon enough. She just had to hold good old Uncle Larry off until then.

A twig snapped to her left and Marius appeared with a wave of his wand. She clamped down on a gasp and backed up. He glowered down at her and her shock turned to amusement at the results of her own hex. The pimple on the tip of his nose was reaching boil territory.

His hair was starting to return to its natural color, and she was relieved that she wouldn't be fighting a malicious-looking Asher for long.

"You'll pay for that one," he warned her.

"I think not."

He went flying through the air away from her and she rushed behind another tree, sending another hex his way when he hit the ground, dust rising around him. Fortunately for him, he was a smart insane man and he rolled, dodging the hex and getting to his feet. He leapt behind his own tree. She decided she officially hated it when he did that—she couldn't tell if he was using a Disillusionment Charm again. In the dark, it was completely impossible for her to tell.

At least he didn't have his Invisibility Cloak with him. Hermione paused to wonder why, then shrugged it off and peered around the tree again, barely dodging another white flash. She went to the other side and he hit the tree with another spell, trapping her. She sighed and waited, listening closely for any movement at all.

Hermione started when a familiar purple flash soared through the air from her left. It was too late to block—she leapt to the other side of the tree, running when she heard him coming after her. She jumped over roots and through the familiar paths of the forest, zigzagging through trees until she was far enough ahead of him.

She swung around her tree and shot a hex back at him. He blocked it and staggered behind his own tree, and they were at another standstill. She huffed and waited for him to try it again, wand poised and ready.

But instead of a spell directed at her, when Hermione glanced to see what he was doing, she saw him shoot red sparks straight up into the sky. She frowned. Well, that just didn't seem safe for him. Didn't he know that there were Aurors waiting at Hogwarts?

"Come out, come out, Miss Granger," Marius said suddenly, voice growing louder as he approached. "There's someone who would very much like to meet you."

"I think I'll stay put, thank you," she replied, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "Not much for—"

An ungodly screech cut her off. Hermione covered her ears and looked up at the black sky hanging over them, covering up any sign of whatever made that horrible noise. It screeched again and this time it was closer. She covered her ears again as the noise drilled into her ears, making her head ache and pound. When it finally quieted, she heard wings flapping—not like Thestral wings, which were leathery. This was like Buckbeak's powerful flaps. The leaves trembled above her.

Something told her she should run, but she couldn't move. Her knees locked as she watched the leafy sky start to come down above her. A shadow moved overhead, blocking out whatever moonlight once managed to make its way through the trees. It was a big shadow. It was time to go.

Hermione leapt around the tree and met Marius, who was grinning at her. She stopped, backing away from him as he came forward. She had to look down to keep from tripping over the tree roots, and then she met a tree. She pointed her wand at him defensively, but Marius stopped.

"Now, now. At least say hello. He's been dying to meet you," he told her, smirking.

Something large was coming through the tree branches from behind him. Marius didn't flinch, but Hermione felt her stomach clench in apprehension and her eyes widen in horror as she saw the creature come in for a landing.

She'd read about them before, but they were mythological creatures native to Africa. Well, mostly mythological. They weren't quite as large as the tales depicted them to be, and they weren't capable of shape-shifting to lure their prey. But they did drink blood, as evidenced by the crimson droplets running down the impundulu's white beak.

The legend was that they were as tall as six feet, which wasn't quite true. Asher was tall, but he wasn't quite there, and the impundulu was almost exactly his height. Most of its body was covered in white feathers, although around the mouth they were tainted with the red blood of its latest kill. The wings were edged with black feathers, as were the tail feathers. Its wings had to span at least eight feet, if not more.

The body and neck were formed like a vulture's, and it stood on long legs ending in sharp black talons, which curved into the ground. There were two tufts of feathers sticking out on top of its head like ears, and its crimson eyes were ringed with amber. It eyed her coldly, creeping closer behind Marius, who was by now rapidly on his way to being him.

Hermione held her wand tight and raised her chin, trying to slow her breathing so that the creature wouldn't see how afraid she was. It tilted its head to the side and watched her with one of its dead eyes, and she could've sworn it was grinning when it came up next to Marius, who reached up to stroke the head. It nuzzled into his hand and shifted, talons digging into the dirt.

By now Hermione's senses were screaming for her to bolt, but she held herself in place. First of all, there was nowhere to run. The Forbidden Forest was to her back and Hogwarts was to her front. As were Marius and his impundulu. Marius would bind her if she moved, or the vulture would strike. Either way led to her blood being sucked out by a giant bird, and she simply wasn't in the mood for that.

She desperately wanted Severus, and that thought urged her to think. Most magic didn't work on impundulus, but there was one spell she could try. The effects wouldn't last long, but it might be just enough for her to get away.

"Now, Mudiwa," Marius said chidingly. "I told you not to eat. You're getting a big dinner, after all."

One of the crimson eyes turned toward Hermione again and she froze. Marius stroked the vulture's head and smiled at Hermione.

"Kill her," he ordered, looking very pleased about that.

'Mudiwa' let out an ear-splitting screech and Hermione yelped, forcing herself not to cover her ears. Instead, she dodged to the right, sending a spell Marius' way and running for her life. She heard Marius curse after her and allowed herself a tiny moment of triumph for her aim. The moment died when she heard those giant wings flapping after her.

She raced back toward the school with all the speed she could coax from her legs, pumping her arms as hard as she could. Still the wings pounded the air closer and closer, even as the lights from Hogwarts came into view. She could see the outline of Hagrid's hut somewhere in the distance.

She didn't dare try to confuse the demon by zigzagging—it would only stop and swoop her up. Like it was going to do soon if she didn't do something about it. Hermione skidded to a stop, kicking up dirt before her, and shouted the only spell she could think of that would work on the impundulu: "_Inconditus_!"

It froze mid-flap and tilted its head to one side when the spell hit it. She didn't pause to see how long its disorientation would last. Instead, she dug her heels in and headed for that school in the distance, hoping Tonks and Kingsley were coming to look for her, or Hagrid was going for a walk, or Severus could sense her distress somehow.

The wings started up behind her again, but at least she'd gained a little ground. Hermione sucked in breath. Her legs and lungs were burning, but she couldn't stop. When she saw the water up ahead, she nearly tripped and fell.

_Shite!_ Somehow they'd ended up near the lake, and there was no way she could run all the way around it and lose the impundulu. She had to try. Hermione put another burst of speed into her aching limbs then skidded to a stop when the ground suddenly became much closer.

For a moment, Hermione thought she'd fallen, but then she realized she was on all four…legs. She looked around wildly and her senses sharpened. The vulture was circling. She'd probably confused it when she turned into…whatever she was now. Hagrid was cooking something in his hut. And the lake was right ahead.

An instinct she didn't know she had kicked in and told her that water was the safest place to be. So, before she could think too much about it, Hermione took off on her little legs toward the water's edge. The wings were flapping toward her again—it must've realized its mistake.

Hermione quickened her pace. This certainly wasn't going to be fast enough. What was she, a sloth? The wings were getting closer by the second and she was getting closer to the water's edge. Slowly, but surely. The screech of the impundulu echoed in her suddenly sensitive ears just as she dove into the water with a speed and grace she hadn't known she possessed.

She was moving much faster now, swirling through the current underneath the water and speeding past the fish. A merperson watched her pass by and Hermione marveled at her amazing ability to take these things in, and at such high speed. She wasn't even running out of breath yet! The water felt so good coursing through her outer fur. There was no way the vulture would catch her now.

Hermione sped up to the top of the water to take a look around. The impundulu was nowhere in sight at the moment, but Hogwarts was up ahead. If she used the boathouse entrance, she could slip inside and get to Severus, no problem. She took a breath and dove back under. This was nifty.

* * *

Severus grumbled under his breath as the insolent little Gryffindor headed for the door. If he had to suffer through that child for one more detention, he might just snap and use an Unforgiveable. Sometimes he thought the boy rivaled Potter in the arrogance column. Unfortunately, Coles still had two more nights of detention, which was his own bloody fault. If he was going to write notes, he could do it on another teacher's time.

"What the—" the boy suddenly squeaked.

He yelped and Severus scowled, rising to his feet when he saw a little brown creature scamper between the boy's legs.

"What is that thing?" Coles shrieked.

Severus rolled his eyes. So much for Gryffindor bravery. The 'thing' scurried to Severus' legs next, but it stopped and froze, looking up at him with big brown eyes that elicited a feeling of familiarity…. Severus frowned at it.

"It's an otter, Mr. Coles. Now stop quivering and get back to your dormitory—before your apparent cowardice forces me to wonder if the Sorting Hat has lost its touch at last," he snapped at the boy.

Coles' spine stiffened and his jaw tightened. His arrogance was back with a vengeance. Severus was about to roll his eyes and give the boy a massive point deduction when the otter whipped around, its little claws clacking on the stone floor, and started chattering at him. The boy stared at it, wide-eyed, and then the otter gave a little lunge and growl.

Coles ran for it and the otter chattered at him all the way out the door. Severus smirked in amusement. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the otter was scolding the boy. He eyed the creature and returned to his chair. He had to finish grading so he could get up to Hermione's room, and he didn't have the time to return the little creature back to Hagrid or wherever it came from.

"As grateful for your assistance as I am, I'm a bit busy," he informed the otter seriously.

It stared at him, almost as though frowning, then tilted its head and narrowed its eyes. It looked as though it was deep in concentration, and then it sprang up and suddenly a drenched Hermione was standing before him, panting and holding her wand. She slumped against his desk, exhausted, and Severus was out of his chair and by her side almost before he'd registered her presence.

"Are you all right? What happened?" he demanded, tugging resistant strands of hair from her cheek and examining her for injuries.

Other than being wet, shivering, and out of breath, she appeared physically undamaged. His chest loosened a bit, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong. While she recovered her breath and her bearings—he couldn't believe she'd achieved her Animagus—he cast a drying spell on her, which took care of her clothes. Then he tugged his outer robe off and wrapped it around her, rubbing the warmth back into her.

"So…fun fact about Marius," she said at last, meeting his eyes solemnly.

His stomach clenched and he tightened his grip on her shoulders, turning her to face him. He looked her over again, despite the fact that he'd just done so seconds ago. She gripped his forearms, half to steady herself, half to calm him.

"What did he do to you?" he growled, still looking her over.

She shook his arms a bit, drawing his attention. "Hey. I'm all right. He used Polyjuice Potion, I-I thought he was Asher…long story short, he has a giant African bird who wants to kill me."

Severus stiffened and Hermione sighed, fingers toying with one of the buttons on his frock coat. Every molecule in his body was urging him to snatch his wand, track down that bastard, and give him the old-fashioned treatment. Death Eater style.

Before he could move a millimeter, Hermione reached across the space between them and kissed him once. Her lips were cold, but her touch was soothing nonetheless. He pulled her closer and rubbed his arms over her, considering casting a heating spell if she didn't get warmer soon. She sighed against him.

"Tonks…she's probably looking for me. We should find her," she murmured into his shoulder.

Severus tightened his grip on her briefly and nodded, taking her hand from his side and kissing her knuckle. Hermione smiled, but it was weak, and he felt another surge of anger hit him. He led her out of his office and strode determinedly up the stairs, hardly aware of anything but Hermione behind him and his destination ahead—Filius.

"Filius, I need to speak with you," he called out sharply. "Where are—"

"Hermione! Oh, there you are! Are you all right, dear? We've all been so worried!"

Severus rolled his eyes as the midget hurried over on his short little legs, eyebrows popping up and down as his expression went from shock to relief to worry and then to confusion. Hermione was blushing, but she nodded. Severus frowned at them both.

"Where are the Aurors?" he snapped at last.

Filius was frowning, looking puzzled, but he gestured to the double doors. "They went outside, looking for—"

"I'll see to that. Stay here," Severus ordered her, but she shook her head.

"No, I want to go with you," she protested, blushing immediately after the words left her lips. "You don't know what kind of bird it was," she blurted afterward.

Filius looked between them, eyebrows high on his forehead.

Severus sighed. They didn't have time to argue. "Fine. Stay close," he hissed.

Hermione nodded and he noticed for the first time that she hadn't yet put her wand away. Severus spared Filius a sneer and stomped out the double doors, wand poised at his side. He felt Hermione trailing close by and, moments after leaving entrance, heard shouts in the distance. He glanced at Hermione and saw that she'd noticed it at the same moment.

She nodded and they ran off toward the sound together. The darkness made it difficult to make out the shapes, but it soon became clear that Hagrid and the Aurors were darting around on the ground, looking up at something huge in the sky. Severus picked up the pace, half out of eagerness to _Avada_ the creature first.

The bird swooped down toward the thinner figure, who he could only assume was Tonks. She hit the ground and the creature flew up again for another round, looking irritated at best. Before he could get any closer, Hermione snatched his arm, pulling him to a stop, and then she was covering his ears. And, before he could ask what she was doing, he understood why.

The creature shrieked and it was the most awful sound he'd ever heard. The sound dug right through his ear canal and seemed to drill into his head, making it ring with pain. Hermione had one ear pressed to his shoulder and she was making an expression of pain, but it faded slowly when the bird stopped screaming bloody murder.

Severus took one of the hands on his ears and pulled her along, toward the other three.

"Why the bloody hell isn't this working?" Kingsley was shouting, his wand pointed toward the beast.

"It's an impundulu!" Hagrid answered, his small eyes wide.

"So?"

"Most magic isn't powerful enough to work on them," Hermione announced as they ran up.

"Hermione, you little—you scared me half to death!" Tonks exclaimed, and flew past Severus to snatch Hermione up in a huge hug.

Severus glared at her back, but his attention was back on the impundulu in seconds. If it was Marius' familiar, it would listen to his instructions no matter what. Since he didn't see Marius anywhere and its last instruction was apparently to kill Hermione…he stepped in front of the two women, watching the vulture-like creature as it circled above them.

"I'm sorry. It turns out Marius has been making a little Polyjuice Potion in his spare time," Hermione was saying.

"Are you all right?" Tonks asked concernedly. "You look like you're freezing."

Hermione gave a little chuckle. "Long story, big bird."

The other woman laughed briefly. "Right."

"How are we supposed to get it if magic doesn't work?" Kingsley asked, scowling at the sky.

"Crossbow'll do," Hagrid replied absently, watching the beast with intense concentration.

Severus eyed the larger man. If Hagrid was taking the shooting of a creature seriously, then this had to be dangerous. He turned to grab Hermione's arm and pulled her behind him, ignoring the look he received from Tonks.

"Until then we can stun him," Hermione told the other two. "_Inconditus_ gives him a bit of a pause, if nothing else."

"Good. When he comes down for another sweep, we'll hit him with that," Kingsley instructed brusquely. "While he's still under the effects, Hagrid, I want you to shoot him. On my count."

Severus tracked the vulture as it eyed them, as though deciding which morsel to snatch first. Fang was wandering by Hagrid, looking up at the bird with his hackles raised. The bird flapped toward the forest and then swung around, starting its descent. They all shifted, preparing.

"All right. One," Kingsley counted. It spread its wings, heading straight for Fang. "Two…three!"

The vulture was hit from all sides and it arched up, blinking and shaking its head. Hagrid pulled the trigger on his crossbow and the arrow flew at the creature, who started flapping its wings again and looked around, bewildered. The arrow hit the wing and the creature let out another awful screech. Fang howled in reply while they all covered their ears.

The bird groaned and flapped away, toward the forest, lilting to one side. Hagrid lowered his crossbow and scowled, shaking his head.

"You hit it," Kingsley assured him.

"Nicked 'im," Hagrid corrected. "He's still got enough fuel ter get back ter Marius, an' he'll patch 'im up right quick. Won't take long, an' he'll be back after Hermione."

"I don't think so," Tonks soothed. "He knows we'll keep her under better watch than ever now. No more mistakes."

"An impundulu on the loose ain't a good thing," Hagrid replied, shaking his head again.

"But Marius has had it with him this entire time, or at least we can assume that," Hermione interjected thoughtfully. "And we haven't heard of any unusual deaths, beyond the shopkeeper. Perhaps Marius is keeping him somewhere and feeding him."

"Or he's unleashed him in the forest," Severus added.

"Right. Plenty of tidbits for him to feed on in there," she agreed, nodding. "Either way, the chances are that it won't kill people until Marius is dead, and he won't use it again. So we don't have to worry about it until then."

"Hopefully," Tonks said, nodding.

"It's coming back," Kingsley announced, and they turned to face it.

"It's not alone!"

"There's two of them? Bloody—"

"That ain't no impundulu."

"It's a Thestral," Hermione said certainly. "The blood must've attracted it."

The vulture screeched and Severus swept Hermione against him, covering her ears. She buried her face in his chest until it quieted down and then whipped around to watch the chase. The Thestral was catching it, moving its legs as though to gallop and increase its speed. The impundulu screeched again and flapped as hard as it could, but its injury was slowing it down.

The Thestral snatched at the bird's tail feathers and it scratched back with its talons, making the Thestral pull up a bit. It cried out irritably and caught up again, this time biting at the impundulu's wounded wing. Feathers flew and the impundulu flapped away, screeching again, but this time in terror. The Thestral swept after it and the bird snapped at it with its beak, but the Thestral narrowly avoided its jaws and had it by the neck.

It shook it hard and released, and the bird began its fall to the ground, where Severus was sure more Thestrals were awaiting it. Hermione swallowed, sounding sick, so he tugged her against him, rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. Tonks sighed.

"Well, that's that," she muttered.

"Chances are, Marius has already taken off," Kingsley said, turning away from the sight of the Thestral diving into the brush after its prey. "We should look, just in case."

Tonks nodded. "And ward off the forest when we're finished."

"We'll need Dumbledore for that."

"I'll get my lantern, help ye look," Hagrid told them, moving back toward his hut with Fang. "Oh, an' Hermione?"

She looked up sharply. "Yes?"

"I'm glad yer all right," he said warmly, and smiled before entering his hut.

"Perhaps you can ask Dumbledore to come aid us, Severus," Kingsley suggested cautiously.

"And see Hermione safely back to her rooms," Tonks added.

Severus dipped his head. As Kingsley said, Marius probably hadn't stuck around, so there was little point in his helping to find him. He would catch him sooner or later. He tightened his grip on Hermione's shoulder instead.

"Thank you," Kingsley said, then turned his attention to Tonks.

Severus started to usher Hermione away, but she resisted his movements and hurried forward to speak to the Aurors.

"Be careful. He likes to hide behind trees and use Disillusionment Charms," she warned them rapidly. "I don't think he has his Invisibility Cloak with him, but you never know. He should look like him again by now, but now he has a lot of pimples on his face, just t-to warn you."

Tonks smiled and hugged her. "Thanks, kiddo. Now go on inside. We don't need you getting lured away again."

Hermione nodded and turned after Kingsley patted her on the shoulder. She gave Severus a weak smile and tugged his robe closer around her as she strode past him toward the castle. He fell in step behind her, keeping his wand out in case the psychopath had decided to act rashly.

* * *

After they sent Dumbledore and some of the other professors out to aid Tonks and Kingsley in putting up wards, they went up to her rooms in silence, but now they held hands. Hermione found Severus' touch most comforting after her evening of near-death experiences, and all she wanted to do was lie down in his embrace where she would be safe and warm.

She didn't think Severus had really noticed that he let her traipse around in front of everyone with his robe around her, and she'd considered taking it off. But she felt so secure with it on that she couldn't help herself. McGonagall had had a twinkle in her eye when she observed the black robe around her shoulders. The twinkle had brightened when Hermione explained that she'd achieved her Animagus and why her hair was wet.

The teachers had been excited to see her change, but Severus cut in with an extra biting snarl, in essence telling them to back off. They did.

Flitwick still looked confused, and Hermione had a feeling they would have some questions to look forward to from him. But for tonight, it would just be them. They could just lie there and relax, and no blood-sucking birds from Africa would try to kill her. She wondered briefly how Marius had smuggled in a bird that size. _Perhaps he raised it from an egg or something_, she pondered.

"Legs, you all right? What happened? Your bodyguards were completely flipping—"

"I'm okay, Loki," she assured him, offering a small smile. "There was a little misunderstanding is all. I'll be fine."

He frowned, but nodded. Severus rubbed her shoulders and she leaned against him with a sigh. Loki suddenly narrowed his eyes.

"You! You better be keeping a closer watch on her, you hear me? If you hadn't noticed, I'm only two-dimensional. You're the one's gotta watch her the rest of the time!" Loki snapped, and he actually looked sincerely angry.

Hermione glanced up at Severus, who was grinding his teeth. "Loki, he didn't—"

"I won't be letting her out of my sight," Severus interrupted lowly.

"Good," Loki said stiffly. "You better not."

They glowered at one another for a while and Hermione sighed.

"All right, can you push the male egos aside for the moment so I can get to bed?" she asked tiredly.

Severus rubbed his hands over her shoulders and down her arms comfortingly, and Loki nodded.

"Lascivious," she said, and he opened up.

"Sweet dreams, Legs," he called after her.

"Night," she replied.

The door shut and Hermione sighed, sagging against the arm of the couch. Crookshanks leapt up onto the back of it and yowled at her as he settled down, looking between them curiously. Severus rubbed her arms again, kissing her forehead.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly. "Really?"

Hermione nodded, and when he looked skeptical, she said, "Yes, really. I just want to sleep."

"I can't say that I blame you," Severus rumbled as she sagged against his chest.

She rested there for a moment, eyes closed and feeling ready to doze off right there. He was so warm and close and his heartbeat was so soothing under her ear….

"We will find him," he said suddenly.

She dragged her head up and met his eyes. "What?"

"Marius. We're going to find him," he said determinedly. "This is going to stop."

Something in his voice—some barely controlled rage—urged her to sooth him, the same urge she'd felt in his office. She stroked his chest, feeling too tired to lift her hands higher than that. She leaned forward and kissed him twice, briefly both times.

"I know," she murmured, leaning her forehead against his.

"I meant what I said to that impudent twit out there," he replied after a moment, caressing her still-damp hair away from her face.

She sighed. "Severus—"

"No. This is the last time I stand by and let anything happen to you," he cut in sharply.

"You didn't exactly know any of the times, did you?" she asked pointedly, smiling a little. "Besides, you can't always be there. You have classes to teach, you know."

He scoffed. "A bunch of dunderheads who refuse to follow the simplest instruction or absorb the smallest iota of knowledge? You're worth a hundred of them."

Hermione felt her cheeks warm and she fought a grin. "Nonetheless, it _is_ your livelihood."

"I couldn't rid myself of this position if I tried," Severus retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Severus," she said chidingly. "Don't you think it'll be a bit obvious to everyone that we're involved if you start following me around everywhere I go?"

He hesitated, frowning. She smirked in triumph, but he sidled closer, rubbing up and down her arms again.

"I'm afraid that secret might already be spilled," he purred, eyeing his robe meaningfully.

She chuckled. "So you _did_ notice you were allowing me to run around the castle with a waving banner attached to my back."

He fondled the silky ends of her hair. "I was a bit preoccupied at the time."

"Look, I'm sure Tonks and Kingsley will be on me every second of every day now that this has happened, and you'll be here at night. I won't be alone long enough for anything to happen to me," she assured him. "You don't need to quit your job in order to bodyguard me. I already have two."

He was scowling, but he dipped his head grudgingly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off with a brief kiss. She smiled at him when she pulled away and he eyed her with surprise for a moment before ducking down to capture her lips in a more intense kiss, this time wrapping her in his embrace and delving his tongue between her lips.

Hermione gave herself up to him, allowing herself to get lost in the fire he spread through her body. She couldn't get enough of his warmth and his kiss, his solid arms around her. Crookshanks was patting her back with his paw, but she couldn't find the will to tear away from Severus. All she wanted was the rest of the night, with him, in peace. No interruptions.

There was a flash off to her left and the fireplace roared. The sound was quickly followed by a gasp. Hermione peeled away from Severus' lips at the same time as he pulled back, and she turned to find Tonks standing just inside the fireplace, gaping, eyes wide, and with a pillow under her arm.

Severus didn't release her from his grasp, and in fact didn't move much at all. It was as though he was waiting for Tonks to react, so Hermione followed suit, wiping her mouth surreptitiously while her stomach churned with apprehension.

"Whoa," Tonks said at last, eyes still wide. Her jaw flapped for several moments following this. "H-how did…? When did…? What…what the hell?" she exclaimed at last.

Hermione blanched and pulled away from Severus, though he kept an arm hooked protectively around her shoulders. Tonks' gaze turned to Severus, and it wasn't a happy look.

"What is going on here? What are you doing to her? What is this?" she snapped rapidly, conflicting emotions flying over her features and disappearing before they could be identified.

"Tonks, please. I-it's not what it looks like," Hermione said soothingly, hoping to draw the heat away from Severus.

"Then what is it?" she demanded, scowling at them.

"I-it's…um…." She glanced up at Severus, who was glowering at Tonks and was therefore no help at all. "W-we're together. And it's okay. The rules on this sort of thing a-are clear. We're allowed an-and McGonagall knows and approved us." She swallowed when Tonks' eyes narrowed at Severus again. "And if you're thinking he's taking advantage of me, that's not it at all. It's not like that. We love each other."

She winced. Tonks stared at her. Hermione shifted a little uncomfortably and felt Severus' thumb start to rub over her shoulder, as he seemed to do almost unconsciously now, whenever he sensed she was feeling anxious. She would've taken a moment to bask in the moment, but she was nervous about what Tonks would say. What if she didn't approve for other reasons? Hermione swallowed.

"So you…and you…h-how long has this been going on?" Tonks managed, frowning as she looked between them.

"Well, we've been…together for a-about a month," Hermione approximated, glancing up at Severus. He dipped his head, but said nothing, keeping his eyes trained on Tonks.

"But it's been going on longer?" she asked uncertainly.

"Well, I-I've…had feelings for Severus for a long time," she managed, clearing her throat. "Remus actually…actually knows, but I made him promise not to tell."

Tonks sighed and leaned against the mantle, promptly staring into space. Hermione glanced up at Severus again and he squeezed her shoulder lightly before turning to Tonks again.

"We've kept it a secret for several reasons," he hissed. "I trust you can keep your silence about it as well as Minerva and your husband have."

Tonks didn't answer right away, but eventually she shook her head, as though amazed.

"Wow. It's just so…unbelievable," she blurted. "I mean, you two? And you, in love? From all the things Remus has told me, I just thought—"

"All of the things Lupin has told you were, undoubtedly, tales of the far-distant past," Severus snapped, and there was a dangerous edge to his voice. "They are therefore irrelevant to our present conversation. Now will you keep quiet about this or not?"

Hermione rested her hand on his arm in a soothing gesture and felt the air behind her unclench a little.

"Well…yes," Tonks said at last, though she was frowning. "Yes, I will. I mean, as long as you're both…happy."

"We are," Hermione blurted hastily. She smiled to prove it.

"We-well, good." Tonks paused and lifted her pillow. "I actually came to crash on your couch, since we think you need someone on you at all times."

She nodded. "You still can, i-if that's all right with-with Severus."

She squirmed with the pleasure of getting to call him that in front of someone. He smirked down at her, eyes glittering, and dipped his head once. His amusement faded when his gaze fell on Tonks once more.

"If only to keep your associate from finding out, yes, you may stay." He sneered. "But mind the cat. He enjoys using stomachs as hurtles."

Tonks shot a wary look at Crookshanks, who yawned. Severus pressed his hand to the small of Hermione's back and ushered her toward the stairs. She shuffled forward a few steps before turning to speak to Tonks.

"If you need extra blankets or pillows or anything, I have some upstairs," she informed her, smiling.

"I should be set. Thanks, anyway, kiddo. Sweet dreams," Tonks replied, still looking a bit dazed.

"Good night."

Severus grunted impatiently and Hermione hurried up the stairs ahead of him, relieved to be going to bed. He shut the door behind them and she swung off his robe, handing it over to him. He tossed it over her desk chair and sat on the edge of her bed to take off his boots and socks.

The silence fell heavily while Hermione pulled off all her layers and slipped into her nightgown. He busied himself with taking off his frock coat and the shirts underneath, but it wasn't long before he was stripped down to his pants and ready for bed. Hermione yanked the nightgown over her head and pranced to the door, pulling it open just a crack for Crookshanks, then hurried back to bed.

She flashed him a smile and burrowed under the covers where he awaited her, and after a moment she was tucked in his embrace. She yawned and smiled.

"Well, this has been an interesting night," she told him sleepily.

"Indeed," he purred in her ear, kissing her neck lightly. "Let us hope the rest of this week is calmer."

Hermione nodded. "Maybe with a little Felix Felicis," she replied, yawning again. He chuckled and she started, "Oh! I need to take the potion."

"Ah, yes. I believe I left a sample in the lav. I'll return in a moment."

He slid out of bed and retrieved it for her, and after she took it, they bade one another good night, hoping beyond hope that tomorrow would be boring. And it was, for the most part, up until Hermione went to her quarters for the evening.


	31. Secrets: Part Six

**Disclaimer:** Nope. I don't own anything.

**A/N:** To avoid confusion, I've decided to put in this author's note to let everybody (who reads these things) know that this starts the morning after Tonks finds out, and I didn't skip a whole day.

* * *

Hermione groaned and stretched, muscles aching after the strenuous activities of the previous evening. Her knees and back cracked and she let out a sigh of relief, then curled back into the ball she'd formed over the course the night. She burrowed into Severus' shoulder and smiled sleepily up at him. He was smirking down at her, but it wasn't his 'amused' smirk. It was more pleased, almost content.

"Morning," she mumbled, smoothing a hand over her hair.

It would probably take more than a comb this morning. She should've brushed it out before going to bed—getting wet hadn't helped to ease its natural tendency to be difficult in the least.

"Morning," Severus rumbled back, and he dipped in to kiss her once, very lightly.

She accepted it and sighed, snuggling closer to him. "How did you sleep?"

"Fairly well," he replied, and his hand traced idle patterns on her shoulder. "You?"

"Deeply and well," she said cheerfully.

He chuckled and she smiled to herself, glancing over her shoulder. Crookshanks had deigned to lie on the bed with them, though he had his back to her. She ran her fingers over his back and he chirped in alarm, whipping around to see who dared touch him. She scratched behind his ears and he calmed, purring.

"You didn't have any nightmares," Severus commented, sounding half-pleased, half-puzzled.

She shook her head. "Not a one. A little surprising considering what we saw last night, but not too much so." She turned to smile at him. "As if your potion wouldn't work."

He'd sobered since she turned around, but he favored her with a smirk then. She turned back to pet Crookshanks more, much to his delight.

It was hard to believe all that had happened last night. So much had happened. She was lured by Marius to the Forbidden Forest, engaged in a battle with him, achieved her Animagus while running from an impundulu, watched said impundulu be shot and then killed by a Thestral—all of that while basically trumpeting to the entire staff, and Kingsley and Tonks, that she and Severus were something of an item.

Oh, and then Tonks walked in on them while they were snogging. So she'd gotten actual confirmation. Hermione understood why Tonks disapproved at first. It would look bad that they were getting involved when Hermione had just had a traumatic experience. Or what would've been a traumatic experience to someone who hadn't been friends with Harry Potter for seven years. So she could see where Tonks might think Severus was taking advantage of the situation.

But at least she'd let it go, even if she was still a bit shell-shocked. Hermione hadn't really even known what to say to convince her it was all right, at first. There were so many things she could be disapproving of: the age difference (although that was a bit iffy since Tonks and Remus were fourteen years apart), the professor-student dynamic, etc. Even the nature of the relationship, if Tonks thought they were only shagging. Of course, Hermione took care of that notion when she said—

_Oh, Merlin! Did I really say…?_ She took a moment to panic and paused in stroking Crookshanks' soft fur. Severus' hand paused on her shoulder and when she turned to look at him, blushing fiercely, he arched a brow at her.

"What is it?" he asked, before she could say anything.

"I-I'm sorry," she blurted, cheeks so hot she wanted to crawl out from under the blanket.

Severus blinked. "Whatever for?"

"F-for speaking for you last night." Hermione swallowed and paused, but he didn't say anything. Which automatically kicked off her instinct to explain, annotate, expound, commentate, elucidate, and otherwise talk herself into trouble because she just couldn't resist filling the silence.

She took a breath. "I really didn't mean to, honestly—I know you can speak perfectly well for yourself, but Tonks seemed so angry at you and I just wanted to make it okay for her in whatever way I could so that she wouldn't be angry with you, since you're really doing nothing wrong, after all, but I couldn't figure out right away what exactly she disapproved of, so I leapt to the first thing I could and then I figured she might think you were taking advantage of me and the situation, but then I thought if I just said that I loved you, she'd think that you were taking advantage of my feelings for you anyway, so it just sort of slipped out and I really, really didn't mean to speak for you, because I know you don't feel quite that way about me—I mean, of course I know you care about me. Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't worry so much about me and my safety, and you want to be with me—obviously, or you wouldn't be here right now—and you're all right with the fact that I love you, but I shouldn't just have assumed it would be okay to say that, particularly since you really don't feel that way about me, and I just wanted her not to be angry with you, but I won't ever say it again, I promise—I was just so tired and all, I-I just…I won't…I won't speak for your feelings ever again. Promise."

Hermione cleared her throat and Severus blinked at her several times. She could see Crookshanks staring at her out of the corner of her eye. She swallowed again and her fingers abandoned their idle search of a scar she'd discovered on his chest to fidget wildly. She was on the verge of saying something more—she could feel it. She bit her lip. _You'll only make it worse_, she chided.

"I don't recall you ever saying so much in one breath first thing in the morning, thank Merlin, so apparently you're exceptionally anxious today," Severus said at length, frowning at her. "Which makes me think that, for being the brightest witch of your age, you are awfully thick at times."

It was Hermione's turn to blink. "What?"

"Not that I'm one to criticize," he continued, as though she hadn't said anything. "My emotional intelligence hasn't exactly led me to the best conclusions or decisions in the past, either."

"Severus, what are you talking about?" she cut in, frowning in confusion.

He gave her an impatient look. "You keep saying that I don't love you. What do you think we've been doing for the last month?"

She stared at him, trying to process his words. Was he saying he…? Was it possible? After several moments of flapping her jaw, Hermione became aware that he was waiting for an answer. She pulled away from him, sitting up and holding her forehead as she tried to dig for an answer.

"I…I don't know," she answered at last. "I guess I just…assumed you cared for me an-and wanted me, but that's all it extended to." She glanced down at him.

He scowled. "You were wrong," he said simply.

Hermione turned back to Crookshanks, who was sound asleep now. She took a deep, steadying breath. Severus…loved…her. How was that even possible? While part of her mind was busy marveling and speculating, the other part was slowly building to the idea with a joy she hadn't felt since…ever. It was a deep, all-consuming feeling that made her want to simultaneously laugh and cry.

And, sure enough, a moment later, she was fighting a grin even though her lip was trembling wildly. She fought the tears, but, despite all her efforts, a sniffle escaped and she wiped her eyes hard. Severus abruptly sat up behind her and put his arms around her, rubbing her back as though to wipe away the tears. He took a breath to speak, but she beat him to it.

"You love me?" she whimpered, but she was half-smiling.

Severus frowned, puzzled. "Yes."

She looked at him for a moment and burst into tears. He froze in panic, then gathered her to his chest and began rubbing again with more energy. She knew he had to be horribly confused, but she was so ecstatic she couldn't stop laughing and crying all at once.

"Why?" she blurted, and he bent to catch her eyes with an arched brow. "I mean…I set your cloak on fire, I stole from your private stores, I called you a _tomato_. I-I mean, just from _that_ fiasco alone, I thought you'd never want to touch me with a ten foot pole."

"Actually, that…." He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Hermione, please…don't cry. I'd rather not have Nymphadora come charging in demanding to know what I've done to you." When she just laughed and cried some more, his expression turned to panic. "Why _are_ you crying?"

Hermione beamed at him, shaking her head. "I have absolutely no idea. I…I've been waiting so long, I guess I just…I can't help it."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a fervent, eager kiss. She grinned at him and he stared at her in confusion, though his hands never stopped stroking her back.

"I love you," Hermione told him happily, then hurried to add, "And now that I know, you don't have to say it, but—"

"I love you," Severus cut in, firmly.

She grinned and leapt to kiss him again, surprising him so greatly this time that they ended up lying back in bed again. After a few moments of voracious exploration, Hermione pulled away—with extreme difficulty, since he didn't seem to want her to get off him now that she was on him—and smiled down at him.

"Why didn't you ever tell me before?" she asked, curiosity getting the best of her. As usual.

"Because, up until about ten minutes ago, I assumed you knew," Severus said crankily. "Now, we have less than five minutes before we absolutely must get ready for the day. What would you like to spend that time doing?"

Hermione hovered over him and wrinkled her nose, mock-considering it. Then she shrugged, grinned, and kissed him again.

* * *

Severus buttoned up the rest of his frock coat as he trotted down the stairs, already running through his schedule in his mind. Breakfast was the first hurdle to jump through today, of course, which meant dealing with a smug Minerva and various reactions from the rest of the staff. It was possible they were all too daft to realize what was right in front of them, but he decided not to count on it and instead to prepare himself for stares, whispers, and odd questions for the rest of the day. And Dumbledore's meddling.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"Snape?" Tonks mumbled from the couch, rubbing her eyes.

He turned irritably. "Morning."

"Morning," she yawned. "Where's Hermione?"

"Shower," he said shortly.

"Oh."

She gazed at him, appearing more awake now. The silence quickly grew uncomfortable and Severus scowled at her, impatient to get back to his quarters. Unlike what many of the students thought, hygiene was not low on his list of priorities, and he desperately wanted a change of clothes. As well as a shower, although that was for rather different reasons.

Tonks just kept staring. He spared a glance for the orange creature, who was now sitting on the coffee table, glowering at him. He arched a brow at Tonks.

"Is there something else?" he snapped.

She flipped aside her blanket, sitting up. "Actually, yes. I-I'm glad I got a chance to speak with you. Without Hermione."

Severus scowled, dropping the Floo powder back in its bowl. He had a feeling this was going to take a while, so he folded his arms and faced her head on, bracing himself. Frankly, his relationship with Hermione was none of Tonks' business, but he would tolerate one ridiculous interrogation. For Hermione's sake.

"She's a great kid," Tonks said at length.

"She's not a 'kid'," he retorted sharply.

That gave her a pause. She cleared her throat. "No. No, she's not. But she's just like any other young woman in love; just like me when I fell in love with Remus. She can't see anything past loving you, so that's why I wanted to speak with you in private."

Severus only arched his brow higher, waiting impatiently for her to go on.

"Last night, you said that the past is irrelevant," she began cautiously, "but I don't think I can see it that way. The Death Eater thing is totally unimportant, yes. You're a good man." She smiled briefly. "But…Remus told me how in love you were with Lily, and I'm just worried that—"

"While I understand your concern, I find your argument unfounded," he cut in harshly. "I met Lily when I had very little idea of what the concept of love really was. My…infatuation with her is far in the past, and it is a closed subject. Do not bring it up again," he snarled lowly.

Tonks gaped at him for a moment before she nodded, once. "Okay. But then, I have to ask, do you really love—"

"That is hardly your concern," he growled, glowering more menacingly at her. "Suffice it to say that I care for her and would no more have her hurt than you, or any of her friends, would."

She frowned, but nodded again. "All right. Okay, I-I can deal with that. As long as you don't hurt her."

Severus scoffed and snatched another handful of Floo powder, tossed it into the fireplace, and stepped through to his quarters.

* * *

Tonks shook her head when the dark man disappeared from the fireplace. Snape was the grumpiest man she'd ever met. She certainly hoped he meant what he'd said. Despite his grouchiness, she liked him. He was a good man underneath it all—he'd proved it more than once—and there were reasons for his belligerence. After the life he'd had, it wasn't all that surprising he didn't trust people.

But if he hurt Hermione, Tonks would have to kick his arse. She was sure Harry, Ron, and company would be right there with her—in fact, the amount of people attacking Snape might be overkill, but she loved Hermione. She was a good kid—young woman—and she didn't deserve any bad treatment, of any kind, from anyone.

Tonks shook herself out of her short-lived daze when she heard Hermione prancing down the steps. Tonks' stomach clenched. Had she overheard? It was quite possible. She'd left the door open a crack for Crookshanks, and it hadn't taken long for her to come out once they'd finished their conversation. Tonks wrung her hands.

Once Hermione reached the bottom step, she slung her bag over her shoulder and smiled.

"Ready to go to your quarters?" Hermione asked cheerfully.

"Hermione, y-you didn't hear…Snape and I talking, did you?" Tonks blurted.

She'd learned through years of dealing with Remus, and various other Gryffindors, that it was best to put it all out there. Clear the air, so to speak. If nothing else, it made them face up to things—no ignoring them. Gryffindors tended to have issues dealing when buried tensions suddenly exploded.

When Hermione only looked at her for a moment, Tonks found herself fidgeting again.

"I'm so sorry, I—"

"What's to be sorry about?" she asked, smiling a tad. "I'm the one who should apologize. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you weren't exactly being quiet."

She hesitated. "N-no, that's not…I'm just sorry you had to find out that way. About Lily and all. Are you okay?"

Hermione frowned in confusion. "What about Lily?"

"Y-you didn't hear that part?"

"No, I heard. I just don't see why you're so nervous," she replied calmly. "All he said was that his crush on her is over, and has been for some time. How is that a bad thing?"

Tonks sagged, smiling at Hermione with sympathy. Of course, Hermione couldn't know—why would Remus tell her about Lily?

"Hermione…I don't think you realize just how in love with her Severus was," she said gently. "I mean, he knew her before James did, and he loved her—deeply—until the day she died. Maybe even past that."

To Tonks' surprise, Hermione shrugged.

"As he said, he doesn't anymore," she replied, completely unfazed. "He wants me now." She smiled a little. "So, are you ready to go to your quarters? I want to get some breakfast before our day starts."

Tonks sighed, but nodded. She supposed…if Hermione could make her peace with this, the rest of them could, too.

* * *

"So…who actually knows about you and Snape?" Tonks asked a little later as they headed down for breakfast. "I mean, if I'm to keep it a secret, I should probably know who I need to keep it a secret from. You said Remus knows."

Hermione nodded. "He knows my half of it, anyway. In third year, he saw my boggart—which was Harry and Ron reacting…badly to me loving Severus. So he knows that I love Severus, although he might be under the impression that that's changed by now."

"All right. So am I allowed to tell him?" she asked eagerly.

She hated the thought of hiding anything from Remus.

"I'll have to ask Severus, but it's all right with me." She paused, considering. "Let's see…McGonagall knows that we're together, and she's the only one. Unless that's changed since last night. Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, and Draco all know that Severus and I have feelings for each other, but they don't know that we're together."

Tonks stopped in her tracks, staring at Hermione agape. She stopped and turned when she noticed the Auror wasn't following, giving her a bemused look.

"What?"

"Well…it's just…I can't believe you've kept something this huge from them," she blurted, stunned.

A hint of guilt traveled over Hermione's features. "Yes, well…we needed some time to settle with it ourselves. I mean, this is the first real relationship I've ever had, and he's not exactly Don Juan. I'll be telling them in about a week, but until then…."

Tonks frowned. "Why did you tell McGonagall then?"

"Well, for one, she doesn't meddle," she replied, smirking. "For two, we needed someone on our side, preferably on the staff."

She nodded her understanding and hopped down the steps to catch up.

"So, anyone else I should know about?" she asked curiously.

"Slughorn and Dumbledore know I'm in love with him," she said, sounding exasperated.

"What? How did _they_ find out?" Tonks exclaimed, laughing.

Hermione shot her a sideways glare, but it wasn't quite as powerful as Snape's, so Tonks just kept laughing.

"There's this little thing called Veritaserum and…it's a long story," she said, shaking her head. "I'll tell you when we don't have an exciting day of Arithmancy to get through."

Tonks nodded. "Good thinking."

They started down the aisle toward the Gryffindor table, where Hermione's friends awaited them. Tonks found Kingsley at the High Table and offered him a nod, which he returned, indicating that all was well. There was a commotion over at the Hufflepuff table, where Asher Twiddlorf was animatedly regaling a large group of students of his tale from last night. Or so she assumed, since he kept miming shivering. He'd been very cold when they found him.

Tonks smiled to herself. His girlfriend had run off to find him some spare clothes, and he was huddling in the empty classroom, trying to use a heating spell on himself. He'd been quite a sight, indeed. Even the detention and point deductions hadn't reduced the grin on his face, she could see now. What a goof.

"Hermione!"

A blur of black flew by Tonks and Hermione screeched with laughter. Ginny was struggling to free herself from her seat to join them, and Ron and Neville stood up on their side of the table, wearing almost identical expressions of concern. Harry set Hermione on her feet, but he didn't let go for quite some time.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay," he mumbled into her shoulder.

Hermione patted his back and Tonks chuckled.

"Harry, I'm going to have to ask you to step away from my charge," she teased. "Hugging her to death is listed as one of the things I'm supposed to stop."

Ginny trotted up just as Harry was releasing the breathless Hermione and took over hastily. She released her sooner, at least, and looked over Hermione with Harry.

"No broken bones, at least," Ginny said hopefully.

"All right, everyone. What did I say about being overprotective?" Hermione asked, heading for her spot at the table.

"This isn't overprotective," Harry said harshly. "You were almost killed."

"Yeah, I think our reaction is warranted," Ginny agreed, nodding.

"Well, don't worry. I'm with her twenty four-seven from now on," Tonks assured them.

"All right?" Draco inquired as Hermione sat.

She smiled at him. "Fine."

Ron and Neville lowered themselves into their seats, looking uncertain as well. Hermione sighed.

"I'm really fine," she said exasperatedly. "There's no need to worry about me. I'm well-protected and—hey, shouldn't you all be congratulating me? I achieved my Animagus." She smiled proudly. "Did whoever told you forget to add in that little tidbit?"

"We don't actually know the whole story," Neville admitted.

"Just that Marius used Polyjuice Potion and brought you out to the Forbidden Forest, where you were attacked by a giant bird," Ron clarified. "And then it was killed by a Thestral."

"Oh, and that he stole Asher's clothes," Draco added.

"That's the gist of it," Tonks replied, nodding.

"With a few details missing, but basically that's what happened," Hermione agreed.

"This is the second time, Hermione," Harry said severely. "Maybe something more needs to be done."

"What more can we do?" she replied evenly. "Nott doesn't leave Hogwarts without Kingsley anymore, Tonks will be with me at all times, the impundulu is dead, the African Strangler has been removed, and Loki has a second portrait. That's about all we can do until Marius decides to pop up again."

"Well, I don't like it. Maybe someone needs to stay in your—"

"Hey."

Tonks whipped around with Hermione and they all stared at a sheepish-looking Theodore Nott. He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets and his cheeks went red when everyone kept staring at him. He cleared his throat.

"I-I just wanted to…to come 'round and ask if you're all right," Nott muttered, avoiding Hermione's eyes. "I heard what happened, and—"

"I'm okay," she said gently. "Thank you for asking."

He nodded twice and backed away. Hermione turned back around and resumed eating, as though nothing unusual had happened. She flipped her hair out of her face and Tonks caught sight of Snape watching them intently. The air suddenly lightened when Hermione made this gesture, and Tonks blinked in amazement as Snape turned back to his meal.

"Anyway…" Harry began again. "I really think more people should be with you. Not that you don't do a good job, Tonks, but…"

* * *

"All right. Your quarters are clear, and I've got to run to mine to check in with Kingsley," Tonks said, sliding her wand back in her pocket. "Will you be all right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Yes, I will be fine for the five minutes it will take you to tell him that everything is okay. I'm just going to change, and Severus will be here soon anyway."

Tonks frowned, but she nodded. "Okay, I'll be back in a jiffy."

She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and disappeared in green flames. Hermione sighed and shook her head. As much as she loved Tonks, and all the rest of her friends, this overprotective thing was getting old rather quickly. She understood the need for it, but she didn't like being crowded like this.

She picked up Crookshanks as she walked past the coffee table and stroked his head as she ascended the stairs to her bedroom. He purred happily and she smiled. At least _he_ wasn't stalking her at all hours in order to protect her. Of course, he didn't know anything was going on.

Hermione kissed him on the head and set him on the bed, opening up the Marauder's Map before she went to her armoire to grab a nightgown. She peeled off her top and started to pull on her nightgown as she stepped over to peek at the map. And then froze in her tracks.

A pair of footprints with the label 'Larkin Marius' were right there, next to Tonks and Kingsley's door. She threw the nightgown aside and swung her top back on, bolting down the stairs. Crookshanks followed her, apparently sensing her urgency—his fur stood on end. She grabbed the Floo powder and threw it in, but when she tried to step through, she was knocked back on her bum.

Hermione pulled out her wand and leapt to her feet, heading for the door determinedly.

"Loki, don't let anyone in!" she called as she swung the door shut behind her, bolting down the hallway.

"Careful, Legs!"

Hermione didn't answer, instead focusing on getting down to Tonks and Kingsley's level. She hurried down the stairs and leapt over the last three steps, then paused. Septima's office was on this floor. If she could get to her, then—

Hermione yelped when her back hit the wall. Tingling pain crackled through her head, and she rolled to her feet, trying to regain her bearings. The blast came from by the railing…she kept her eyes wide, roving the area with intense concentration. She quieted her breathing, trying to clear the air so she could hear him.

The air was empty for several moments.

Then something moved several feet to the right of where it had come from the last time. She saw the tip of a wand, but it was too late to react, and she found herself falling to the ground and crying out as pain crackled all over her body, through her bones, in her skin. She felt like dying.

"Good to know one Unforgiveable works on you," a by-now familiar voice hissed, seething with hate. "Let's try another, shall we?"

* * *

"Kingsley, trust me. Everything's secure," Tonks said exasperatedly. "No booby traps whatsoever, and no way to get in unless you live in Hogwarts."

He sighed. "Right. I just can't help worrying. He got to her last night."

"But it won't happen again," she assured him. "And even if it does, Hermione is a big girl. She's proved that much."

Kingsley nodded grudgingly. "Yes, I know. I just wonder if maybe I should guard her as well."

"We can't leave Nott alone," she reminded him.

"True. I—"

A sharp cry cut him off.

"That sounds like…" Tonks began.

They exchanged a glance, then rushed to the door. Kingsley jerked the handle, but it wouldn't budge. On instinct, she ran to the Floo and attempted entry to Hermione's quarters, but she was knocked backward. Kingsley caught her and scowled, then grabbed some powder himself and said, "Dumbledore's office."

He was jerked backward as well, and she steadied him. They exchanged another horrified glance. They were trapped.

* * *

"So…Hermione Granger."

That was all Severus heard all day. Granted, he didn't _mind_ hearing about Hermione. He didn't even mind the compliments the other professors lavished on her. What he did mind was the reason for all this talk of Hermione.

Rolanda, Aurora, and Charity all seemed to be on the 'you aren't and will never be good enough for her' team. He could hardly believe it when Rolanda came up to him at dinner, purely to get her digs in. He hadn't known she even cared about Hermione, but evidently her fondness for Potter extended to his friends. The other two had never liked him, so he wasn't surprised.

Bathsheba, Filius, Slughorn, Pomona, and Septima, on the other hand, seemed determined to find out if he was with Hermione for certain. They dropped hints endlessly, digging for more information, using their compliments to gauge his reaction. He kept his expression carefully blank, disappointing the entire group. Although he did choke on his pumpkin juice when Septima went so far as to mention that Hermione must be a fantastic kisser. How else could she have kept Viktor Krum so smitten for all these years?

Severus just relieved that the other staff members either hadn't noticed anything odd the night before. Or, in the cases of Binns, Firenze, Trelawney, Poppy, and Pince, that he never ran into them because they scarcely left their habitats.

Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Minerva were in a class all their own. Minerva would not stop smiling smugly at him throughout the interrogations, grinning when she saw that he was fighting especially hard not to react. Hagrid…honestly didn't seem to know why everyone was talking about Hermione so much, but he wouldn't shut up about how kind she was anyway. And Dumbledore would not stop.

Severus left all three meals early, solely because Dumbledore wouldn't stop _twinkling_ and _talking_. Filch gave him a sympathetic grunt when he left breakfast early, but that was the extent of his reaction to all that had gone on.

Presently, he realized something was a bit off about Hermione's quarters. That something being that she wasn't there. He scowled and started up the stairs, ignoring Crookshanks, who was pacing on the back of the couch.

"Hermione?" he called.

No answer. He stepped into the bedroom, but it was empty. Her nightgown was lying haphazardly on the floor. His muscles tightened as he picked it up, setting it gently on the bed. Hermione didn't leave her clothes lying around. He peeked into the lavatory, but she wasn't in there, either. He tried to calm his breathing, which had become shaky since he felt the first signs that something was wrong.

He looked around her bedroom again, as though she would show up suddenly, or she'd been hiding all along. He glanced at her desk and caught sight of the Marauder's Map lying open. He frowned. She didn't do that, either. He stepped over to it and searched for her, peeling up the layers to see different floors.

Loki was left watching yet another retreating form speeding down the hallway shortly after this. The Fat Lady frowned at Severus as soon as he arrived.

"Password?" she prompted.

He clenched his fists. "I'm a professor, which you know very well, so I suggest you let me in before I practice my Cutting Hex."

She opened up, sputtering at him, and he stormed through the Gryffindor common room, ignoring all the stares he received from the students. He marched up the steps and flung the door open, startling the wits out of Longbottom, who leapt out of bed and promptly fell on his bum.

"Snape?" Finnigan exclaimed, stunned.

Potter set his book aside and exchanged a glance with Weasley before Severus snatched him by the front of the shirt. He yelped when he was dragged out of bed, struggling to find his feet.

"What the hell? I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed.

"What's going on?" Weasley demanded, pulling out his wand.

"You have an Invisibility Cloak, Potter. Get it," Severus snarled.

* * *

Hermione pulled herself up on the desk, shaking her head hard. Marius was just playing with her now, building up to the moment when he would kill her. She gripped her wand and looked around for his wand to appear again. She'd gotten lucky a few times, managing to block his spell and hit him with a couple of hexes.

She wiped the blood from her nose and sighed.

"What, no…giant bird, or jar of bugs, or-or plant this time?" she panted, hoping to get a rise out of him.

"You took care of my 'bird', if you remember," he snarled from her left.

"Oh, so that's what this is about. I was wondering how you'd gotten dumb enough to use an Unforgiveable in Hogwarts," she replied, pointing her wand at him.

"Silence, child. I know what you're trying to do," he snapped. "And you'll stay alive as long as I want you to."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Obviously he didn't know what she was trying to do.

"Look, you're not being smart," she told him. "I realize the loss of your bird must've been horrible, but you can't let it affect your judgment. You could still walk away here."

"Do not mock me!" he roared. "_Expelliarmus_!"

Her wand flew from her hand and she winced, preparing herself for the blow of the Cruciatus, or possibly worse. She saw his wand appear out of the corner of her eye yet again and wished she could place a brick wall between them and stop this onslaught of pain.

"_Abrogo_!"

Hermione sucked in a breath, but nothing happened. There was no new pain, no unnerving sensation crawling over her. She looked over to Marius' wand, which was still.

"Interesting…" she heard him murmur.

She started when his wand moved again and she envisioned the wall again. The spell was blocked and she let out a mental cry of triumph. As long as she could keep this up, he couldn't touch her. In fact, she might even be able to get back to her wand….

She feigned to the right and went to the right, but he sent a hex her way and she dodged at the last second. She scowled in his general direction, exasperated with this. At least in the forest she'd been able to catch glimpses of him. This was just ridiculous.

She listened intently, swiping the back of her hand across her itching nose, and waited for him to move again. The wand appeared, but she wasn't quick enough to block again. She found herself writhing on the stone cold floor, the blistering pain of the Cruciatus crawling through her. She clawed at her skin, trying to free herself of it, and crying out.

Hermione was about ready to beg him to make it stop when the door flung wide open and something hit the wall. She panted, trying to recover, but her muscles wouldn't stop twitching. Marius was still out of sight, and whoever had rescued her was, too. She frowned in confusion. _Harry?_

"What is this?" Marius asked suddenly, sounding out of breath. "A ghost?"

Whoever, or whatever, it was didn't answer. Hermione gritted her teeth and forced herself to her feet, holding her shoulder when she felt a twinge. She looked around for her wand, but she didn't see it. She tensed. Had Marius grabbed it while he was torturing her?

A flash of purple came from her right and she jumped, but it was heading toward where Marius' voice last was.

"Missed me," he chanted. "So it's a wizard, is it? Disillusionments don't last forever."

As soon as the last syllable was out, there was another flash and the sound of skin smacking the floor. Hermione scowled, slowly backing herself into a corner. This battle was rather unnerving.

Marius was laughing—or cackling, more like.

"So you've come to rescue her, have you?" he taunted. "You were doing well until you used that spell. Obviously you forgot that Lucius and I were friends. I know very well what spells Death Eaters use."

Another flash, but this time Marius must've blocked it, because nothing happened. There was a long silence and Hermione used the time to search the room for her wand. Perhaps it rolled under a table or something….

She bent to glance under one of them, but someone snatched her around the waist and she felt wood pressed tight to her neck. She stiffened in Marius' grasp, trying to pry away the arm he had around her. He pressed the point of his wand tighter in and she felt it against her pulse.

"What I don't understand is how you could let such a sweet girl lower herself to the likes of you," Marius said in her ear. She jerked, trying to get to her rescuer, but he tightened his grip. "After all, you're on the path to redemption now. Shouldn't you be protecting this young, sweet thing from the darkness of your past? I think we both know that a relationship with a former Death Eater is detrimental to her. You're ruining her innocence, after all. Can you look into her eyes…her big, brown eyes…and tell her what you've done? Who you've murdered?"

"Severus, if it's you…don't listen to him," she panted, shaking her head.

Marius' grip tightened on her shoulder and she hissed reflexively.

She had to get out of this, or whoever her rescuer was would never get a clear shot. Particularly if Marius was right and it was Severus. She renewed her struggle against Marius, wanting to get to him. She was quickly growing frustrated with her lack of ability to move, and she strained hard at the arm around her. She could think of no way to get out of all this except one, and she needed her wand for that. If she could just set his cloak on fire….

Hermione yelped along with Marius and lunged forward when he released her. She stumbled to the floor and held her now pink hands out, whimpering at the pain of being singed. Marius was having a worse time, she saw. The Invisibility Cloak lit up like gasoline, and Marius was currently struggling to tear it off his shoulders and stomp out the fire.

The pimple-faced bastard finally came into view as he stomped out the flames, wand at the ready. He glowered at Hermione where she sat and swung around, sending a length of vines her way. Before it could reach her, the vines were sliced in half and Severus swung off his cloak before turning to Marius and putting him in a Body Bind, perfectly preserving his expression of surprise.

Severus didn't even pause to look. Instead, he whipped around on his heel, sliding his wand in his pocket, and knelt beside her. He took her hands to examine them and she hissed in pain, grinding her teeth hard.

"I'm okay," Hermione told him softly.

He ignored her in favor of tilting her head back, his fingers pressing against her chin. He took a look at her nose and then bent down again, scooping his arm under her legs. Despite this revealing action, Hermione heard herself yelp when he lifted her up, and she swung her arms reflexively around his neck. She yelped this time when her burnt hands touched the fabric of his coat.

Severus eyed her, as though to make sure she was all right, and then headed for the door and, presumably, the hospital wing.

"I can walk, you know," she told him as he strode out the door.

"I only want to be your hero even more than before," Severus said so quietly she almost didn't catch it.

She gaped at him for a moment; she could hardly believe he was bringing that up. She could remember feeling so lethargic, unable to control her tongue, and blurting out those fateful words: "_It's like you're like…you're like even more my hero than before now_." Then she caught the smallest quirk of his lips. He was teasing her. She tilted her head back and laughed, shaking her head at him.

"I think we need a deal where you don't ever use that horrible experience against me," she replied, finding a smile for him despite the pain in her hands and nose.

He shook his head. "Not a chance. I would—"

"Hermione! What happened?" Harry called, racing down the steps toward them.

"Are you okay?" Ron added, leaping after his shorter friend.

"Where the hell have you been?" Severus snarled, much to Hermione's surprise.

"We went to get Tonks and Kingsley, like you told us to," Harry replied obediently. "But the door was blocked with ivy. We had to get McGonagall to get them out, but they're coming right behind us."

"Is everything all right?" Ron demanded impatiently.

"I'm fine, Ron," she assured him, glancing at Severus uncomfortably.

She was surprised at him. First, she never thought he'd dare to show her this level of affection in front of anyone. Particularly since he was the one who'd wanted to keep their relationship a secret. Second, she never thought he'd trust Harry and Ron to do _anything_.

"Very well," Severus grumbled. "Your cloak is in that empty classroom," he informed him, jerking his head to indicate the room they had just left.

Harry nodded. "Thanks. A-are we going to the hospital wing now?"

"Yes, please," Hermione interjected, making all three men smile—or smirk, in one case.

Just then, several footsteps pounded the stairs above, descending on them rapidly. Hermione sighed, glancing at Severus.

"Do you want me to get down?" she asked quietly.

Severus arched a brow at her, indicating that his answer was a vehement 'no.' She smiled to herself.

"Hermione! Are you all right?"

"Oh, my dear!"

"What happened?"

"Our culprit is waiting in that room," Severus snapped immediately, jerking his head again. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I believe Miss Granger is in need of a Healer."

His tone was such that no one thought twice when they created a path for them.

* * *

While Tonks and Kingsley took care of Marius and the mess the battle left behind, Harry, Ron, and McGonagall accompanied Hermione and Severus to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey shooed all of them away—including Severus—while she tended to Hermione's broken nose and her burnt hands. Hermione tried to quiet her whimpers of pain, but she still saw Severus' head bobbing by as he paced outside of her curtain.

When Pomfrey finished treating her, all Hermione had left to show for the battle were two bandaged hands. Pomfrey had laved on a burn salve, which would treat the remaining damage and heal overnight—as long as she kept the bandages on.

She finally got her wand back when Pomfrey let her out. Kingsley found it while they were searching the room, apparently.

Dumbledore was waiting with the rest of them when Hermione exited the curtained off area. He greeted her warmly, assuring her that it gave him great joy to know she was all right. He also let her know that Tonks and Kingsley were, as they spoke, escorting Mr. Marius to Azkaban, and that they would be staying one more night before leaving. Apparently, Marius had sealed off their Floo to all the networks, as well as creating the barrier with his plants, and Flitwick and Sprout were working on that as they spoke.

Harry and Ron insisted on escorting her back to her quarters while Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Severus spoke for a bit. Hermione wouldn't have minded, normally, but after all that she'd been through tonight, she just wanted to be with Severus. As it was, he wouldn't meet her eyes when she left, as though he was making up for his affectionate show earlier. She thought it was a little late, but….

The boys were kind enough not to comment on their interactions, though she could tell they were aching to. Whenever the name came up, they would both glance at her anxiously and bounce on their heels. Both of them offered to stay in her quarters for the evening, but they were easily persuaded with the logic that Marius was going to prison—there was no need to guard her any longer.

Crookshanks was delighted to see her, as was Loki. She informed the portrait that she would regale him with the evening's events in the morning—now she just wanted to sleep. She cuddled with Crooks a little before changing into her nightgown, and she straightened up the place a bit before bed. She folded up the Marauder's Map, making a mental note to return it to Harry in the morning. She hoped he'd gotten his Invisibility Cloak, as well.

Then, with nothing else to do, Hermione sat at the head of her bed and waited for Severus to come. Crookshanks curled up next to her and fell asleep shortly afterward, but she couldn't bring herself to. She wanted to be awake when he came. She examined her bandages critically for some time, tightening them a bit before glancing at her watch.

At thirty minutes, Hermione was tempted to go to his office and see if he was there. She made herself wait—after all, this could be an important conversation. Maybe he was still talking to Dumbledore and McGonagall. It was at fifty minutes that she cracked.

She hopped out of bed and hurried down the stairs, her stomach doing flips as she grabbed the Floo powder. She paused, wondering if this was silly. He was probably still just talking to Dumbledore and McGonagall. He would be back in a few minutes, and then she would just seem foolish for worrying. But she couldn't shake off the horrible feeling that he wasn't coming.

So, in a moment of recklessness, Hermione tossed the pinch of Floo powder in the fire and said, "Severus' office."

The room was empty, and dark, as though he hadn't been there in quite a while. She frowned, squinting and trying to find her way through the room. Perhaps he was in his labs. She fumbled for the doorknob and finally found it after finding the doorjamb first. She peeked inside, but it was just as empty as his office.

Hermione sighed and backed out, shoulders drooping until she caught sight of the door she'd never been to the other side of. It was madness, really. He'd never invited her back there—what made her think he wanted her there? She swallowed, trying to keep a hold on herself.

But this must've been her night for reckless behavior, because, before she knew it, she was moving rapidly across the room and opening the door. She knew at once she'd found his private quarters—everything was decorated in shades of grey, brown, and green. There were books all along the walls and a fireplace on the far side of the room, with a brown couch before it. The end table had books on it, as well, and there was a desk in a corner.

And, finally, there was Severus. He sat in a brown armchair in a corner near the fireplace, and he was only in his lounge pants. Hermione stared at him, stung that he'd apparently intended on spending the night without her. She started to back out, but then she realized that his focus was intent on her—she'd already been spotted.

She swallowed and eyed him again, hoping his anger wouldn't be too great. His arm was stretched out along the arm of the chair, palm up, and she realized with a start that he was staring at his Dark Mark. He must've noticed her gaze at the same moment she saw it, for he lifted his arm abruptly, and his black eyes locked onto her.

She swallowed again. "Y-you didn't…I was worried," she murmured, unable to lift her voice any higher than that.

Severus sighed, but said nothing. Instead he turned his gaze to the fire, watching the flames dance almost absently. Hermione frowned.

"If you were thinking about what Marius said, don't," she said at length. "He was trying to get a rise out of you, that's all."

"He was right," he said at last, voice a low growl.

"He wasn't," Hermione retorted. "You're a good man."

"You think he wasn't right because he's the villain," Severus muttered bitterly.

And apparently that was enough to make her snap. She slammed the door shut behind her, catching his attention fairly quickly with that move.

"Stop it," she snapped. "Stop acting like I'm naïve and I don't know what the world is like and that I don't understand who you are. I may not have experienced all that you have, but I've seen enough of reality to get it. I get what it means that you have done things that no one should. Do you think I haven't imagined it? I still love you. And I don't care if I shouldn't, because you _are_ a good man, and you have _more_ than made up for your past sins. You deserve happiness."

Severus only stared at her. When he didn't say anything for several moments, Hermione sighed and approached cautiously. She didn't want him to push her away, so she assumed being slow was the safest way to go about it.

His black eyes followed her as she eased down before him, hands on his knees, but he didn't react. She smoothed her hands over his thighs briefly and moved her weight onto her knees, reaching carefully for his arm. She took his forearm gently, tugging until he ceased resisting. She kept an eye on him, just in case, and bent down to place a chaste kiss against his wrist.

Severus stiffened, but Hermione didn't wait for him to react. Instead, she kept moving down his arm, pressing feather-light kisses down his arm, not pausing at the Dark Mark. She moved right over it with her lips, and when she reached his elbow, she started back up again. Severus lifted his arm so she was forced to move herself sinuously between his legs, and then he moved his hand past her mouth, cupping the back of her head and pulling her into a kiss.

Hermione gave in to his fervent exploration of her, reassuring him with her eager response. There was an urgency in his kiss she'd never felt before, and he held her in place like he was afraid she would break away and run. She stroked his hair and caressed his cheeks soothingly, assuring him that she wasn't going anywhere.

Eventually, he abandoned his hold on her neck and reached down to her back, gathering her up against him until she could feel their chests pressed together. After a moment of hesitation, Severus stood, bringing her with him, and as soon as she was steady on her feet, he bent down and swept her up again. She met his eyes, combing through the ends of his hair and smiling lovingly, assuring him that she trusted him.

Severus kissed her once more, firmly, and then he carried her to the farthest door. He kicked it open and brought her through, taking care not to hit her head or feet on anything. The door shut hard behind them when they passed through, and she took a moment to glance around the dark room.

It was rather simple—only two doors leading off of it. There was also an armoire, a nightstand, and a full-size bed, which he carried her to and then, very gently, eased her down onto. She sank into the grey blankets with a sigh, pleased to be surrounded by everything Severus. He moved over her, hovering over top of her and caressing the hair away from her face.

Hermione let him look at her as long as he liked, smiling up at him adoringly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then her lips, deepening the kiss again as his hands moved between them. He caressed her body and settled himself between her legs, moving against her until she moaned.

The slow pace he'd set up seemed to fade at this point, and his passion took over. He allowed her a short breather, but then he was kissing her again, reaching down to tug up her nightgown. She lifted her body where it helped, pressing herself tight against his arousal until he pulled it over her head. As soon as it cleared her hands, he tossed it aside and they met again. She wrapped her arms tight around him, wanting more this time, needing it.

Within moments, Severus had her bra flung aside and she melted into him, digging her nails lightly into his back when he ground against her again. She moved her hands down his back, tugging gently at the line of his pants. He pulled back from the feverish kisses he'd been lavishing on her neck to eye her, looking a bit surprised. She kissed him briefly and whispered, "Please."

He pressed his lips to hers in acquiescence and slowly moved down her body, laving his tongue down her stomach as he pulled down her knickers. He stood to free her legs of them, tossing them aside and snatching her ankles before she could drop her legs. He rubbed circles over the pads of her feet, massaging, and leaned to kiss each ankle.

He moved to her calves, kissing each gently, and then her knees, then between her thighs, making her squirm and moan with need. When he pressed a kiss to her core, she bucked reflexively and blushed immediately with embarrassment. Severus seemed to think nothing of it—he only took her hips in his hands and kissed her more deeply, teasing her with his tongue. She gasped and writhed, her need for him growing with every second.

He didn't make her wait much longer, apparently impatient himself. He stood again, stripping down until he was, at long last, completely nude for her. Hermione watched him strip and nearly panted with excitement and a little trepidation when she saw him there. She moaned and reached for him, and he obliged her, warming her with his body and stoking her desire with his lips.

Hermione gripped him tight while he spread her legs below, moving himself into position, and then he stopped, pulling back from the kiss. Severus gazed down at her seriously, as though to ascertain if this was what she wanted. She reached up to kiss him lingeringly and he responded gently before he finally moved to sheathe himself within her.

She gasped and clenched her fists when he met her, and he paused again to be sure that she was all right so far. She pressed a reassuring kiss to his neck, hugging herself against him, and she squeezed her legs around him when it grew painful. He stopped again, but she urged him on, squeezing herself around him, and then he eased into her and she released the tension in her muscles, sighing with relief.

Severus kissed her forehead, bending to kiss her lips again, and muttered against her, "All right?" The only response she could find in the fog of desire was to kiss him back, and then he slowly began moving within her. She dug her nails in, still trying to find where it was comfortable, and squirmed below him until suddenly something switched and it felt so terrifyingly good.

She moaned that animalistic moan and arched up against him encouragingly, aching for more. He didn't hesitate to oblige, and soon they were moving in tandem. He spread kisses over her neck and she kept herself tucked against his shoulder, pressing her lips to him occasionally and moaning her delight to him. He was so perfect inside her, spreading fire over her body until she was nearly sobbing with the pleasure of it.

This time the darkness swept over her completely and she lost all sense of space and time and everything but Severus wrapped around her, and then the world came crashing back, but it was perfect. She was still dizzy with ecstasy, but she distantly heard him give his own groan and then he just held her for a moment, all around her.

He lifted himself off of her and lay back, beckoning her. She slipped over to where he was, laying against his chest and listening to his heart race below her ear. His hands traced lazy patterns over her back and he kissed the top of her head. When Hermione met his gaze, Severus was watching her with such intense adulation that she wondered how anything could ever be so perfect.

"I love you," she murmured, and rested against him again, closing her eyes.

And, if she wasn't mistaken, he kissed her head again and replied, "And I love you."


	32. Crookshanks and the Dastardly Bastard

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Mmkay?

**A/N:** So, so, so sorry this update is so late. From now on, everyone should expect updates once a week, but not necessarily on Monday. My life is crazy this semester, and it's wreaking some serious havoc on my free time. For those of you wondering when the end will finally come, there will probably be three more chapters following this one.

* * *

_We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this special episode of "The Seven Year Wait."_

_

* * *

_

Severus tucked the extra blanket he'd grabbed earlier more securely around Hermione's shoulders and settled back, watching her for a moment. She breathed in deeply and whimpered once, burrowing into the pillow before falling back to peaceful slumber. He would have to wake her soon if they were to be in time for breakfast, but he wanted to give her as much rest as possible—she was exhausted, and she had every reason to be.

His arousal stirred again, so he took a deep breath and looked away, trying to calm himself. It was hard for him to believe she was really there, in his bed. And she was his. Irrevocably. A pang of guilt rose up and he tried to push it away—she wouldn't want him thinking that way.

Severus glanced down at her again, fighting the urge to bend down and kiss her. But Hermione was completely irresistible, even in her sleep, and he found himself kissing her forehead. He backed off hastily, hoping he hadn't woken her, and breathed a sigh of relief when she just lay there. Only a moment later, his relief was revoked when she stretched, a smile curving her lips.

Hermione pushed the blankets down off her shoulders, freeing her arms, and smiled at him sleepily.

"G'morning," she mumbled, eyes half-closing.

"Good morning," he replied, pleasure stirring in his center. "How are your hands?"

She blinked in confusion, then lifted her bandaged hands up. "Oh. They're fine. I haven't felt a thing since Madam Pomfrey put the burn salve on." She smiled.

He nodded. "Good."

Her smile faded as she thought. "I didn't know you could make fire wandlessly."

"Most can't. It's incredibly advanced, and it takes more emotional control than you were feeling at the moment, I imagine," he replied, fighting down the anger that arose in his chest at the thought of Marius.

Hermione laid her hand on his chest, as though she could sense it, and smiled affectionately up at him.

"Yes, I was freaking a little," she admitted quietly.

"You hid it well. In any case, it would be best if you held off any attempts to try it again, until you've had a bit more practice with the basic spells."

She nodded sharply. "Definitely. No more hand-frying."

Severus allowed her a smirk, and she beamed back. He found himself idly caressing the hand she'd rested on his chest, but she was distracted when she yawned. She turned toward the nightstand briefly—likely to look for her watch—then rubbed her eyes and frowned when she found it missing.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly time for breakfast."

Her frown promptly turned into a pout. "Why didn't you wake me sooner?"

He nearly chuckled at the sight. "I didn't want to deprive you of any rest. You needed every bit of it you could get, after last night," he purred.

Her cheeks went pink, but she smiled, albeit shyly.

"Last night? Hmm…." She paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't remember anything tiring happening last night…."

Severus arched a brow, playing along. "Is that so?"

She nodded, just a tad sheepishly. "Maybe you can help me remember…."

He couldn't help but smirk. "I suppose I could be persuaded to…lend a hand."

He didn't fight his oncoming arousal this time, instead allowing her to feed it with her reddening cheeks and small grin. He slid his hand up her side as he dipped down for the heaven of her lips. She shuddered against him and let out a gusty breath just as he kissed her, long and lingering. She pressed her hand to his cheek, stretching her neck to reach him, and he was immediately ready for another go-round.

All thoughts of breakfast faded from his mind as he moved to hover over her, marveling again at the feel of her naked flesh against his. She was in complete agreement with his plan of snogging until they couldn't take it anymore for the first couple minutes, and then the clock in her head apparently went off.

She pulled away reluctantly, but he refused to cease-fire, instead trailing his kisses down her neck.

"Oh, but it's almost breakfast…I have to go get ready and shower an—"

Severus lifted his head abruptly and eyed her intently. Hermione's cheeks went beet red immediately.

"A-a-and _you_ have to get ready, too," she blurted, clearing her throat. "B-because of…the classes." She looked like she was having difficulty forming sentences. "That you teach." She paused, blushing even deeper now. "What do you teach again?"

He smirked and, rather than replying, kissed her again. It went well again for another minute, but she moaned and broke away again, this time turning her head to avoid him. He took advantage of the angle, spreading more kisses across her exposed neck and stroking her hair away.

"No, but…we'll see each other tonight," she said weakly. "And…I have to go to classes today…so I need to get dressed…."

He grunted. "Why?"

She huffed, but she was rubbing his arms, almost encouragingly.

"Because people get scared when I walk around naked." She sighed heavily. "Really…I have to get dressed and—oh, no…."

Severus lifted up to eye her, frowning. "What?"

Hermione looked horrified. "Crookshanks!"

* * *

Crookshanks tapped his tail angrily on the wood of the coffee table, glowering at the fireplace as he waited for his mistress to return and feed him his breakfast. He knew where she was. She'd said the Bastard's name when she went through. And now the Bastard was keeping her.

Crookshanks narrowed his eyes. This was _it_. The Bastard had just used up his ninth life. This was war.

* * *

Despite Severus' objections, Hermione did manage to make it to breakfast with forty-five minutes of it left, and she fed Crookshanks, who was…a little less than pleased with her. He refused to look at her, and even turned his nose up at the food she gave him. He was just as stubborn as Severus.

Presently, she was bounding down the stairs for the Great Hall, but she was quickly intercepted by Tonks and Kingsley, who were just coming out.

"Morning, kiddo," Tonks said, grinning.

"Hey. A-are you leaving already?" Hermione asked, frowning at the travel robes they were wearing.

"Yes. We've got to get back to London," Kingsley replied. "There's some case about a black market dealer."

"Yep, while the adventure is over for you, _we_ have to get back to work and have some more fun dodging criminals and their psychotic torture devices," Tonks added, winking.

Hermione smiled. "So, I take it that means there were no problems last night?"

"None whatsoever," she assured her.

"Marius is tucked safely in a cell in Azkaban, and after the new security measures Scrimgeour instated, I doubt you'll be seeing him again," Kingsley said, sounding pleased.

"Well, thank you. Both of you," Hermione replied hastily. "It's been nice having you here."

Kingsley nodded. "It's been nice being here."

"Yeah, for once, we were in the loop with you and your friends' secret adventures," Tonks said, winking.

"We've got to be off. Scrimgeour expects a report," he reminded them. "It was nice seeing you, Hermione." He clapped his hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"You, too," she said, smiling back.

He nodded and started off down the hallway. "And good luck with the Potions Master."

Hermione couldn't help it: she gaped after him. Before she could say anything, Tonks wrapped her in a brief hug and trotted off after her partner, grinning like a fool. How the—she glanced down at herself, then shook her head—hard. Okay, so one more person knew. No big deal, as long as he didn't tell anyone….

"Morning, everyone," she said as she sank into the spot next to Neville. She frowned. "Where's Ginny?"

Ron promptly swallowed down his food and cleared his throat. "I believe my little sister is in a dark room with her fiancé, possibly with a silencing charm and I hope to Merlin with a locking ward."

"Ah." She smiled at Neville, who was turning pink. "Come on, Neville. It's not like you didn't lock yourself in the storage closet with Hannah all day Saturday."

"Yeah, but…I don't go around telling people about it," he mumbled. "Things like that are private."

"Then I guess we shouldn't ask how Hermione's night was," Ron interrupted.

Her eyes snapped to him immediately. "What? Why not? Nothing ha-happened last night. Just evil villain going to Azkaban and me burning my hands. Which are fine, by the way, so thank you for asking."

"Hermione, we're not idiots," Harry said flatly. He looked a little bored.

She laughed nervously. "What do you mean?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "We mean that Snape doesn't carry students—"

"Who can walk perfectly well," Harry added.

"—every day. It's pretty clear what was going on there," he concluded.

Hermione could not think of anything to say to that. Nothing. Zip. She was going to lose an argument. To _Ron_. This could not stand. She couldn't really defend Severus in this case. There really was no cause for him to carry her—she could walk, she wasn't unconscious, and he usually made a point of not touching people. She started to panic a little, and not just because of her loss of words. The boys knew now—this was just not good. Why did everyone know?

"So, how long have you been dating?" Harry asked nonchalantly, taking her bacon off her plate and replacing it with his omelet.

"W-w-w-we h-h-h—" Neville put his hand on Hermione's shoulder, effectively shutting her up. She took a deep breath and offered him a weak smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Hermione, it's okay," Harry assured her, smiling briefly. "We get why you didn't tell us."

Her brow furrowed. "You do?"

"Sure," Ron intercepted, nodding. "It's not like Snape would _want_ us to know. Even if you weren't still a tyro."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but then she could only stare at Ron, who took a huge bite of eggs. She exchanged a glance with Harry and Neville, who both looked as confused. Ron frowned when he noticed their gazes.

"What?" he asked, mouth full of eggs.

"Tyro?" Hermione prompted, finding herself a little amused.

Ron swallowed heavily. "Yeah. It's another word for 'apprentice,' although it also means 'novice.' You didn't know that?" He looked smug. "Guess it's just payback for years of you calling me variations on 'callous.'"

"Actually, I _did_ know what that meant," she replied, smirking. "I just didn't know _you_ did."

"Where did you even hear that?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Hey, I read stuff," Ron said defensively.

"You are a mystery to me," Neville said, shaking his head.

Harry cleared his throat. "Anyway, you never answered my question, Hermione."

"Oh…uh, before I do?" She winced when they all looked at her expectantly. "How many people have you told?"

"Nobody," he replied, shrugging.

"Well, except Neville," Ron amended. "But we sort of had to because he heard us talking about it in the loo and…the acoustics are great in there, so there's just no taking back what you've said."

Hermione frowned at Neville, but he nodded. "It's true."

"Okay…. Anyway, does Ginny know? Luna? Lavender? Oh, please tell me Lavender doesn't know." She started to panic.

"No," Ron grumbled. "She doesn't know."

"No one but me, Ron, and Neville," Harry assured her. "And whoever you've told, of course, if anyone. We figured we would wait to see what you wanted us to do before we tell anyone."

"I appreciate that," she said sincerely. "And, actually, I would've been telling you in a week anyway—Severus and I agreed—but I'd rather tell everyone else myself. I-I don't want Ginny to be hurt thinking I didn't tell her and—"

"Got it," Ron said, nodding.

"Thank you." She sighed. "And you may as well know that Kingsley and Tonks found out somehow…."

"Oh." Neville frowned. "Good to know…."

"So? How long?" Harry pressed, smiling.

"About a month. A little longer," Hermione said, grinning despite herself. "He started sleeping on my couch and…"

* * *

"Well, it's not as though you were being very sly that night," Hermione told the Bastard that evening.

She was smiling at him, practically crawling in his lap. Crookshanks glared at them. Stupid Bastard, trying to steal his mum. Well, he would soon know the meaning of pain. Crookshanks sharpened his claws on the scratcher his mistress bought him a month after they were united.

"I mean, honestly. How often does Severus Snape carry someone?" she teased the scowling arse. "Even if I'd been unconscious, you'd have just used Mobilicorpus on me."

"Well, they didn't have to broadcast it to the entire school," the Bastard growled, folding his arms.

Hermione rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. "They didn't broadcast it. They just asked me, and no one overheard, so it's all right."

"I still don't understand how that simpering idiot found out," he snapped, and Crookshanks bristled.

No one raised their voice to his mom. Crookshanks narrowed his eyes at him.

"Again, carrying me? Not exactly subtle," she said sarcastically. Then she smiled. "Come on, it's not as though they'll tell anyone. They're all my friends, and they—well…most of them—respect you. Ron really, really doesn't." She frowned, then went on, "Besides, they were going to find out in a week anyway. What's the difference?"

The Bastard sighed, unclenching. He caressed Crookshanks' mistress' cheek. That slimy cur.

"I suppose you're right," the Bastard said, much quieter this time. "However, having so many of these interfering ignoramuses find out at one time is a tad tiresome."

"I know, it's a lot," she said gently, rubbing his shoulders. "But…we've only got a few weeks of school left and then everyone will probably know. We may as well deal with at least some of the burden now."

The Bastard scowled. "That's precisely the problem. They should know when we choose—on our terms."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I know."

Crookshanks watched them from his spot next to his scratcher and waited for their next move. Hermione was staring at the fireplace, as though in thought, and the Bastard was sliding his arm around her shoulders, running his fingers in circles over her bare shoulder. What a pillock.

"Well…speaking of choosing to tell people…" Hermione said, and she sounded nervous.

The Bastard shifted, paying closer attention now.

"I…don't want my parents to find out by some freakish accident wherein my wizarding life suddenly collides with my Muggle life. And knowing my stellar history with romantic encounters, it will." When the Bastard smirked, she went on, "Really. It's a cosmic law. If I have to deal with something delicate and related to my love life, the most embarrassing thing possible has to happen. And you can't deny that. You saw the results of the Wish Away Draught attempt."

The Bastard shook his head, but he was still smirking. "Go on."

"I want to tell my parents. I-I want to tell them before anyone else finds out, except maybe Ginny. I'd tell them sooner, but this weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend and, besides, I'll need permission to go away for the weekend, and this would be kind of short notice. And I-I also need to know how you feel about this," Hermione concluded anxiously.

Crookshanks thought to go over and comfort her, but she was still under the thrall of the evil Bastard. He would have to wait. He glared more intently.

"I agree," the Bastard said at length, very lowly. "Your parents should know."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay. Good. Then I-I'll go next weekend, if Dumbledore will give me permission, which shouldn't be too difficult to obtain, since I do have my good school reputation backing me up and I won't be taking N.E.W.T.s, unlike the rest of my class."

"I will get your permission for you; we'll go together," the Bastard said firmly.

She stared at him for a moment. "Severus, you really don't have to do that. I mean…first of all, won't it be kind of a red flag to everyone if we both disappear for a weekend? I know that the teachers all basically know already, but—"

"You have been half-raised in the wizarding world, and you've always been open-minded," he cut in, gentle but intense. "The latter may have come from your parents, but they still may not share the same views as you. Our age gap and our social statuses may not be easy for them to take in stride."

Hermione swallowed. "But Mum…sh-she understood."

"And a theory can turn to disaster when put in practice," the Bastard said pointedly. "Besides, there is a reason you didn't tell your father."

She looked away, avoiding eye contact. Crookshanks tapped his tail impatiently.

"My parents would never hurt me," she said quietly, at length. "You don't need to come to protect me."

"I'm not worried about your physical well-being in their presence," he retorted, keeping a firm grip on her shoulder. "If either of them reacts badly…." He sighed roughly. "I will not leave you vulnerable to hurt. Of any kind, Hermione."

Crookshanks resettled on his haunches in the silence that followed, waiting for one of them to do something. Hermione did. She put her mouth on the Bastard's again, and they stayed that way for a long time, moving their hands all over each other and making the oddest noises. Eventually, Hermione pulled back, panting.

"I think I might take that shower now," she murmured.

The Bastard looked confused at first, then he smirked and pressed his lips against hers again, more briefly this time. Crookshanks' mistress smiled.

"Give me one second," she whispered, put her lips on his again, and then flounced away and up the stairs.

Crookshanks nearly purred with excitement. 'Operation Family Jewels: Take 2' was officially underway. He nonchalantly strolled across the carpet, batting one of his toys under the coffee table. The Bastard sat there, ignoring him as usual, and Crookshanks used his obliviousness to his advantage.

Rather than attacking from the side, he bunched up under the coffee table. He pulled every muscle he had together, tensing them all and glowering up at his unmindful target. One…two…three!

Crookshanks sprang into the Bastard's lap, claws extended, and he was going to hurt the man—badly, when he heard a gasp from behind him. It threw his aim off and he only got the Bastard's thigh. Still, he dug his claws in hard, and the Bastard glared at him, gritting his teeth.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione exclaimed—and it was not her happy voice.

He decided to go for innocent, unlatching his claws and laying down in the Bastard's lap. He'd just wanted to be petted, that's all. He cat-smiled at his mistress, who, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. She swept him off the Bastard's lap and held him high in the air. She was scowling at him.

"I can't believe you just did that," she said sharply. "You are a _bad_ cat!"

Crookshanks stared at her in shock. She _never_ called him bad! That stupid bastard was poisoning his mum against him! He was definitely a worthy opponent…crafty. Crookshanks glared at the Bastard, who hadn't moved.

"You're going in the carrier," Hermione snapped, and Crookshanks wriggled to get out of her grasp, but she wasn't letting go.

She marched over to his carrier and swung him inside before he could even react. And when he whipped around, she had already slammed the cage door shut. He yowled, but she only huffed.

"I can't believe you…" she muttered, and then stormed off to aid the Bastard.

Crookshanks glared at him through the bars. That evil man was going down. As soon as he got out of this carrier.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked miserably as Severus reentered the bedroom.

"For the last time: yes, I'm fine," he said severely. "A cat scratch is a pittance."

She sighed forlornly, using his robes to tug him closer. "I'm just so sorry he did this. I mean, he's never behaved that way before." She paused. "Well, except with Ron, but even Harry admits that he kind of deserves it sometimes."

He smirked, stroking her arms comfortingly.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with him," she mumbled, frowning. "It's been a month. If he hasn't adjusted by now, then…." She trailed off with a heavy sigh.

"Well…the Magical Menagerie is always willing to take in strays," he said slyly.

Hermione gaped at him and promptly smacked him on the chest. She folded her arms and turned her gaze pointedly away from him. Severus might've laughed if he'd been a more expressive person, but instead he found himself smiling at her.

"Hermione," he prompted, tugging at her elbows and running his hands up to hers. "I'm joking."

She eyed him suspiciously. "I didn't know you _could_ joke."

"Oh, there are quite a few things I'm capable of that you're not aware of," Severus purred, simultaneously smoothing his hands back down her arms and pulling her to her feet.

Hermione sucked in a breath, watching him in delicious anticipation. He didn't disappoint. He stole her lips ravenously, pulling her tight against him as a reminder of last night's binding actions. Fire seared her flesh, burning away all thoughts of Crookshanks or anything else as Severus slid her nightgown up her sides.

* * *

"What are we doing in here, anyway?" Ron grumped as the boys followed Hermione.

"Well, this _is_ Hermione's natural habitat," Harry replied, shrugging. "You can't expect to escape coming here all the time if you want to see her."

Ron chuckled and Harry grinned at him.

"I'm trying to find a book on Kneazles," Hermione cut in, huffing. She glowered at them and went back to scanning the titles. "Crookshanks is exhibiting a bit of a…behavior problem."

"But…haven't you already read all the books?" Ron asked. He grinned cheekily when she glared at him.

Harry muffled a chuckle. "What's going on with him?"

"Well, it's been over a month since Severus started sleeping in my quarters, and…Crookshanks hates him," she admitted reluctantly.

"Imagine that," Ron muttered sarcastically. Harry socked him in the arm. "Ow!"

"Shh," Hermione hissed. "Pince'll kick us out for good if you two bother her again."

"Sorry," Harry murmured, but Ron only stuck his tongue out at him.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to the books. She really didn't have time for their shenanigans.

"What have you tried?" Harry whispered after a moment.

"Tried?" she prompted, puzzled.

"To get Crookshanks to like him," he clarified.

"Oh. Well, nothing, I guess." At his look, she leapt to defend herself. "I haven't had to try anything else before! All he's ever needed is time before he likes someone, before this. I mean, he even likes Ron a little now."

"Thanks," he grumbled.

"That's true," Harry said, frowning in thought. "But then, no one else has ever invaded his territory like this before."

Hermione paused with her finger on the binding of a book. That was true…she'd never lived with anyone else before. Except her parents, but they didn't live in her room.

"Hey, maybe you could try having Snape move some of his stuff in," Ron suggested, shrugging. "Lavender put one of my old socks in her owl's cage, and now he doesn't bite me anymore."

"That's because he bites your sock now," Harry said flatly.

Hermione glanced between them, barely registering the rest of their conversation. That actually made a little sense. If Crookshanks could smell something of Severus', he might get used to having him around more than just at night. It'd feel just like more of his territory. Then again, he might just feel _more_ threatened.

But she wasn't finding anything so far, and it was the only suggestion she had. It might just have to do….

"Can we go now? I have a Defense essay that's begging to be finished," Ron was saying.

"You never finish your homework this early," Harry retorted.

"How are you two on studying for the N.E.W.T.s? They're coming up soon," Hermione interrupted, taking a perverse delight in their shared looks of mortification.

"Uh…um…w-we're d-doing good," Harry stammered, avoiding her eyes.

"Great!" Ron blurted. "W-we're right on schedule."

She rolled her eyes. "If tomorrow weren't a Hogsmeade Saturday, I'd be trapping you in the Room of Requirement the entire day."

They exchanged a relieved glance, breathing out. She smirked.

"As it is, I guess we'll just have to use the rest of the day today," Hermione said coolly, tugging them along by the arms. "Come on, we've lots of work to do."

"Okay, you've been spending _way_ too much time with Snape," Ron squeaked, panicked.

She just smiled.

* * *

"Well…that didn't work."

Hermione grimaced as she held up the frayed shirt for Severus to see the next morning. She'd known Crookshanks wasn't _thrilled_ about it. As soon as she set it in his carrier, he'd given her his, "What the hell did you just do?" look. But this was a little…over the top. Not only had he clawed the poor shirt to death, but he'd also dragged it all the way up the stairs. And he'd put it in his water dish.

Severus let out a breath. "Clearly."

She frowned apologetically. "I don't suppose you want this back now."

"Not particularly."

"Sorry. I really thought that would work." She sighed, dropping the shirt back to the floor. "I mean, not right away, but—"

He kissed her, cupping her chin. "I wasn't fond of it anyway."

Hermione couldn't help a relieved smile and kissed him again, then bounced to the other side of the bed, helping him straighten the sheets.

"I thought of staying back from Hogsmeade this weekend, but now I'd really like to see what kind of books I can find on this subject."

"Doesn't matter. I've been shanghaied into chaperoning yet again anyway," he growled, scowling at the pillow he was fluffing.

"Oh. Well, I suppose that works out perfectly then," she said cheerfully, smiling at him. "Even for you."

Severus straightened, eyeing her skeptically. "How is that?"

Hermione's smile widened and she started her trek around the bed to his side, trying to put a sway into her hips. It was easier when she felt his eyes raking over her hungrily, spreading goose bumps over her flesh and making her feel gorgeous all over again.

"Think about it. A long day of deducting points and chasing naughty children about a town filled with all kinds of distractions for them to make trouble with—and feeling all the more disobedient now that summer is coming up."

"I sincerely hope you are coming to a better conclusion," Severus retorted, but she could still feel the heat of his gaze sweeping over her as she approached, smoothing her hands up his chest.

She smiled sweetly. "And then you get to come back to Hogwarts, eat dinner with a group of prying teachers…and then, finally, come up to my room. Straight after dinner…no interruptions, all night."

His eyes had darkened considerably, and she felt herself getting even more excited at the sight.

"I was under the impression that tonight was for reading only," he purred, teasing her.

She mock-considered that. "I think we can manage to give up…one night. Don't you?"

Severus smirked, and his only reply was another breath-snatching kiss.

* * *

Hermione hummed distractedly as she and Ginny went down the aisle, searching—for the third time that day—for a Kneazle help book. The one she'd found in her favorite bookstore was far too expensive for her to even consider buying, particularly since she only needed it for the one thing. Now they were in a magical supplies store, which she wasn't too sure about, since they only had three rows of books.

"Do you think green and gold would clash?" Ginny was asking. "I think if we used the right shades, it would look nice—and it's much better than green and maroon. That would look like a Christmas card, and since we're planning on marrying in the fall, it would totally conflict."

Hermione sighed. "Why do you have to use Gryffindor and Slytherin colors at all?"

"Because!" she whined. "A _lot_ of Slytherins and Gryffindors are going to be invited to the wedding and we want to send a message of…uniting the Houses." She beamed.

She pulled a book from its place and idly flipped the pages, and Hermione paused in her title-scanning, keeping her finger on the book she left off on.

"Isn't it enough that you two are uniting? It should be about you two, not the rift between Slytherin and Gryffindor," she said pointedly. "If you have to combine something, maybe it should be your favorite colors."

Ginny grimaced. "Green and lavender? Can we say 'Smoker'?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Joker. He's the Joker."

"I'm sorry. I can't memorize the _entire_ Muggle culture," she said exasperatedly. "Particularly when you don't even like that comic book stuff. And anyway, green and lavender still doesn't look good together."

She sighed. "Well, not necessarily. If it's emerald in shade and the vests and ties are that color, while the girls wear lavender, then it won't clash."

She considered that, putting the book back in place, so Hermione went back to scanning titles.

"I suppose that's true…but don't you think the colors should match? Maybe we should go with two different colors of violet," Ginny wondered aloud. "Although…Draco isn't too fond of looking girly, and violet is definitely a girl color. Green might be pretty, but too much Slytherin green could be overwhelming…." She sighed. "You are so lucky you don't believe in marriage."

"I never said that," Hermione blurted, frowning at her. "I only said that I won't ever be getting married."

"I still don't get that. Snape likes you," she said certainly.

"That doesn't mean he wants marriage," she replied, turning back to her books. "Look, it's not like you don't have a year to decide this. Why do you have to have everything set right now?"

"Well…Draco's mum wants the dresses custom-made," Ginny replied.

"I am still stunned the woman is so enthusiastic about this," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Me, too. Oh, hey, I promised to meet Draco at the Three Broomsticks."

"That's all right. I'll join you as soon as I finish looking, if that's all right."

She smiled. "The more, the merrier." She paused, looking mischievous. "Although…that's not the case when Draco and I are playing Mistress of Pain."

Ginny grinned at the horrified expression on Hermione's face, then winked and trotted out of the store. Hermione shook her head. _People and their sex games_, she thought irritably, rolling her eyes as she turned around the corner to scan the last stack.

She knew for a fact that Ginny had a red negligee, and matching garters with silver buckles. The only reason she knew this, of course, was because Ginny insisted on asking her if she thought it was an appropriate outfit to surprise Draco with on his birthday. Hermione had been traumatized, and she didn't understand how people could wear that sort of thing.

"Oh!" Hermione nearly squealed with excitement as she pulled the bargain book off the shelf. It was the same one she'd found in her favorite bookstore, but this one was much cheaper. She tucked the book under her arm and set off for the clothing section to pick up a couple socks for Dobby.

There were still a few pairs leftover from Valentine's Day with hearts and arrows on them, so she piled them on top of the book, smiling wryly. At least house-elves didn't try to dress in skimpy outfits like that. Unless this _was_ skimpy for them…. She shook her head of the thought.

And she couldn't help but wonder…_does Severus like that sort of thing?_ Hermione froze in the middle of digging through the pile of socks. So far, he hadn't shown any displeasure with their sexual explorations—he'd even assured her, in no uncertain terms, that she was not 'bad.' But she hadn't been very adventurous, letting him take the lead all the time…and he was being nice and slow with her because of her lack of experience.

What if he wanted something…more exciting? Her gaze flicked over to the nearby undergarment section and she cleared her throat, blushing fiercely. If Severus wanted something like that, he'd say it. _Wouldn't he?_ She frowned. He wasn't exactly 'here's what I want and what I'm thinking' guy. She usually had to ask to find out what he liked, but she felt self-conscious at the thought of asking him what kind of…things he liked.

Hermione swallowed, trying to ignore her suddenly burning curiosity. She glanced again and sucked in a sharp breath, tucking the book and socks under her arm. She cast a glance over the room and breathed out in relief when she saw that there weren't many people around—most of them were in the front of the store with the ingredients and toys.

So, she crept over to that section, skipping the knickers and bras. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and glanced around surreptitiously again before gingerly picking up something lacy and dark blue. It unfolded as she lifted it, and she held it by the sleeves, eyes growing wider by the second.

_Women…__**wear**__ this? How do they…fit? And it's so see-through! I can't imagine this is at all comfortable. The lace must itch horribly, and there's so little material. Perhaps they cast a warming spell to keep from freezing to death. If they can even get it on. I can't believe men are actually turned on by—_

"Interesting choice," a voice rumbled behind her.

Hermione dropped the negligee—and the book and socks—and whipped around, pressing herself back against the shelf and staring in horror up at a smirking Severus. She was having flashbacks to when he found out when she was in love with him. This was terrifying.

_Say. Something._ Her jaw flapped and she thought she might cry. She thought the period where she was embarrassed with every single second she spent in his presence was over.

"I-I-I-I-I—"

"Breathe," Severus ordered, and she did.

"I wasn't gonna buy it," she muttered rapidly, avoiding his eyes.

"Really?" he purred, bending to pick it up. She grimaced when he lifted it in front of her, examining it critically. "Well, I have to say the diamond studs likely wouldn't complement you—rather gaudy in my opinion. On the other hand, the color would suit you well. However, I don't—and have never—seen you as the 'lace' type, so perhaps you'd better pass it up."

He smirked and put it back on the shelf, keeping her trapped between him and the shelves. She was still breathing heavily, trying to recover from the horror of the situation.

"Hermione, relax," he said quietly, soothing her. "There is no need for embarrassment."

"B-but you…a-and I was—"

"Which might have been an issue three months ago," he cut in firmly. "Now—" he slid his hands over her elbows, rubbing up the back of her arms and sending chill up her spine, "I believe we should be able to comfortably discuss it with one another."

"Severus…big chance of being caught in here," she protested weakly, even as he ducked down to press a teasing kiss to her neck.

He lifted up long enough to mumble, "True enough," and then he kissed her for a long, arousing moment. By the time he swept away, she was nearly panting with need, and she folded her arms across her chest uncomfortably as she watched him retreat. If Ginny didn't do it first, that man was going to make Hermione die of embarrassment.

* * *

"Okay." Hermione plopped on the couch next to Severus that evening, brandishing the brand new book she'd found in the store. "There are a few suggestions in this book that just might work. If you don't mind, I'd like to try them before we…get into anything." She smiled at him.

Severus only grunted, so she kissed him as a reminder that she was just as excited as he was. Then she turned back to the book and read aloud.

"'_Dealing with the Adjustment to the New Man in Your Life. Kneazles have a tendency to act like a jealous lover when their chosen owner welcomes a partner into her life. Much like their cousins, cats, they will react by pouncing on feet, urinating on clothing, and even trying to trip the person. Contrary to popular belief, simply locking the Kneazle out of the bedroom will do absolutely nothing to help._

"'_Instead, the Kneazle will feel that a part of his home has been taken away from him, and he may retaliate strongly. One thing you can do is completely ignore that he is misbehaving at all, and when he attacks your partner, both of you should make no contact with him at all._' I think we've done a fair job of that, don't you?" she prompted.

Severus nodded and idly rubbed her shoulder, gesturing for her to go on.

She cleared her throat. "'_If he receives no reaction, he will stop. Another thing you can do is incorporate your partner into playtime and involve the Kneazle in time with your partner. Try cuddling with your partner while petting the Kneazle, and he may realize that you are not choosing your partner over him._' Okay, we could try that. Umm…here."

Hermione took Severus' hand in hers and set the book on the coffee table, then beckoned for Crookshanks, who was cleaning himself on the landing.

"Crooks, come here, baby," she called, smiling when he jerked his head up. She patted the couch next to her and he leapt to his feet, bounding down the steps and up onto the couch. She stroked his head and he immediately purred, arching his head up into her hand as she itched behind his ear.

* * *

_Oh, this is nice_, Crookshanks thought as his mum (finally) stroked along his back, making him purr out in delight. He placed his paws on her leg and stretched, arching his back before he made his way into her lap. Hermione looked pleased, and he nuzzled her. He rolled in her lap and she ran her fingers over his belly, massaging it gently. He purred, eyes drifting closed, and then he caught sight of the Bastard.

Crookshanks glowered at him. He'd known he was sitting there, of course, but he was touching Crookshanks' mum, which was inappropriate. He glared at their hands and turned back onto his back, focusing on how to get her hand out of his.

"I think it's working…he's purring, at least," Hermione said optimistically.

The Bastard grunted, and Crookshanks cautiously batted at his hand. Hermione's hand paused in petting him and he slowly reached for her hand, trying to pry it away. He fought the urge to use his claws, instead wiggling his paw in between her thumb and his palm.

Hermione huffed. "Or…not."

He purred at her.

* * *

Over the next couple days, whenever Hermione and the Bastard weren't away or in the bedroom, Crookshanks' mum did the oddest things. Whenever the Bastard came from the green fire, she would give him a treat and pet him. He thought that was nice, since it made seeing the Bastard a little less stressful. When he jumped on the Bastard's feet after eating his treat one time, though, his mistress stopped doing that.

She also kept putting the Bastard's shirt back in his carrier whenever he dragged it out. She didn't seem to understand that he didn't want that in there. Hermione invited Crookshanks into the bed now, as long as they hadn't been doing that thing that made her make weird noises. Whenever they read, she made sure he sat in her lap, and she did that when they were talking, too.

He took the opportunities to annoy the Bastard, who mostly ignored him. Which was a little irritating. No one ignored Crookshanks. It was Wednesday when Hermione stopped doing the weird things. She sat on the couch next to the Bastard, looking forlorn.

"I give up," she said miserably, tossing a book on the coffee table. "We've tried everything in that book. There is no way on earth to get Crookshanks to like you. And I give up."

The Bastard rubbed her shoulders. "It's all right."

"No, it's not all right!" Hermione exclaimed, frowning. "First of all, I _never_ give up. I always find a solution. It's like my thing. It's what I do. And second, I don't know what I'm going to do if you two can't get along." She slumped back on the couch.

The Bastard sighed, then ran a hand over her thigh. Crookshanks glared at him from her other side.

"Perhaps we should lay off for a bit. Ask a fresh perspective," he said quietly. "Hagrid may have some useful suggestions."

Hermione brightened up. "Hagrid! Oh, why didn't I think of that before?"

"He is under the impression that we are not involved, I believe. That may have put you off," he suggested, shrugging.

Crookshanks' mistress hugged him tight. "Oh, I love you."

The Bastard looked pleased. "Failing that, we could try Charles Weasley's advice. I imagine he's had extensive experience with animals of your cat's temperament."

Hermione laughed. "At least Crooks doesn't breathe fire."

"That you know of," he retorted.

She grinned and laughed again and then they were putting their mouths together again. Crookshanks glared disapprovingly. This had to stop.

* * *

Crookshanks sat by his scratcher the next evening, cleaning himself busily. It was around the time the Bastard usually showed up, so he figured he might as well be clean before his long night of tormenting. Unless Hermione shut the door again so they could make weird noises. They didn't do that a couple nights this week, but Crookshanks never knew when they would start again.

The fire blazed up green and the Bastard stepped through, brushing ash off himself. Crookshanks glowered at him briefly before he went back to cleaning his hip.

"Hermione?" the Bastard called.

She came bursting out of the room a couple seconds later, and the Bastard started up the stairs.

"Did you talk to Hagrid?" he asked.

"Yes, and he—"

Time stood still for Crookshanks. He caught sight of something horrible. Her balance on the step was off by a fraction, and she was about to fall! Crookshanks leapt into action, running for the stairs, but he was too far away. He wasn't going to make it before she crashed to the floor! He put an extra burst of speed in his legs. _I'm coming, Mum!_

He screeched to a halt when something amazing happened. The Bastard caught Hermione.

Crookshanks stared while Hermione regained her balance, smiling at the Bastard. Suddenly, everything became clear. The Bastard was a Savior, a Guardian—he was a fellow protector of Hermione's well-being. He was a _good guy_.


	33. Finally: Part One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. I'm just bored.

**A/N:** Sigh. So sorry, guys. I wanted to answer _TheLastVampirate_ in the author's note, in case other people want to know, too. In my last A/N, I said there would be three more chapters and she asked if that would include an epilogue. It does not. Thanks for everyone's continued support. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, thanks for that."

She leaned on him for a moment longer before sliding her arm through his and descending the stairs with him. Crookshanks waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, impatiently rubbing up against the railing.

"As I was saying, Hagrid said we're doing the right thing so far," she continued. "He mentioned trying to leave the two of you alone at some point, so Crooks won't feel so…competitive." She smiled.

He grunted and sank into the spot next to her. She curled her legs up under her and pressed closer to him, and Crookshanks sped across the room to join them. Hermione jumped visibly when he leapt up onto the Savior's lap, so he nuzzled her hand and purred to reassure her. The two exchanged a puzzled glance, but Crookshanks ignored that and rubbed against the Savior in way of apology.

_You're a good man, a kind man— wonderful, even—and I was wrong to pass judgment on you so quickly_, he thought, purring happily.

"Um…." Hermione's jaw flapped. "I…what?"

The Savior nodded, making no move to pet him. "Precisely."

Crookshanks plopped down next to his hand and cat-smiled up at him. _You know you want to pet me_, he told him. _Everyone does._ He nudged his hand to give him a hint and Hermione laughed, then covered her mouth hastily when the Savior eyed her.

_Come on, you can do it_, he urged, nudging his hand again. Hermione looked pink and she still had her hand over her mouth. Crookshanks reached over the Savior's arm and put his paw on her, then purred in satisfaction.

"You didn't happen to slip him a relaxant, did you?" the Savior asked sardonically.

Crookshanks' mum shook her head. "Of course not. I have no idea what happened. But this is good! We don't even have to _try_ a love potion now." She giggled and the Savior sent her a dour look.

_No one is petting me_, Crookshanks reminded them. He tapped Hermione's knee and nudged the Savior's hand again, a bit more forcefully now. Hermione stroked his head and he closed his eyes, pleased. _You are such a goddess_, he thought happily. _But if you try to replace him now I will sneak into your bedroom and kill the imposter in his sleep._

Hermione was still laughing as she scratched Crookshanks behind the ear. The Savior still wasn't petting him and he looked perplexed. Hermione put her mouth on his and Crookshanks purred in approval, since that was something they seemed to enjoy quite a lot.

"Cheer up. Sometimes you just have to accept miracles as they come," she told the Savior, and grinned.

Crookshanks smiled in agreement.

* * *

"McGonagall said I shouldn't have too much trouble with the written part, but I still can't help feeling a little nervous," Hermione admitted as she came from the loo, brushing her hair out. It was an understatement—she actually felt the tension mounting so rapidly her muscles wouldn't relax.

Severus grunted, smirking at her. "Why should you be? I think you've proved you're more than capable." He tossed his boots to the floor.

She halted in her brushstrokes. "I know, but sometimes when I'm nervous I-I choke up." She frowned, sighing. "I guess that's the difference between me and Harry."

He was frowning at her now. "If anything, I thought you worked best under pressure."

"Only because I can't think about how nervous I am then," she retorted, smiling in reply. It fell from her lips when she thought of next week's trials again. "I just hope I'm ready. I feel like I wasted the entire first half of the year, worrying about not thinking about things. Which, now that I think about it, was rather counterproductive. But anyway, I'm worried that I didn't absorb any of it. It feels like it just flew by and I—"

It took her a moment to register that he was kissing her, and then she didn't fight it, instead sinking into his lips and his embrace. He left her breathless after a few moments of tangling themselves up in one another. He caressed her cheek and leaned his forehead to hers, pulling tighter to her when he felt her grip tense on his back.

"You'll be fine," he assured her quietly.

Hermione swallowed and drew back to meet his eyes. "Were we talking?"

Severus only smirked and dipped down to capture her lips again. She strained up on the tips of her toes to meet him, sucking in a breath when he bent to lavish her neck with his attentions. He lifted back to her lips after a moment and heaved her up in his arms so she would no longer have to strain to reach up. She scrambled for a hold on him, keeping her arms tight around his neck and wrapping her legs about his waist.

He backed into the bed and lowered himself to it so she was straddling him, running his hands over the back of her thighs and making her shiver. She tossed the brush to the bed behind them and focused her hands on unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. It was only when his hand rode up her hip that stopping occurred to her.

"Wa-wait," she blurted, breaking away from his lips.

Severus sighed heavily, looking resigned when she rose up off of him. She straightened her nightgown and sighed, preparing to pace. He scowled at her.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately, but his expression didn't change. "I-I just…we never had our…discussion." That famous brow rose. "A-about…things. See, you said we would, bu-but we didn't. You just sort of came, saw, flabbergasted, an-and left without really saying anything abou—"

"Ah," he said, realizing. He sighed and got to his feet. "Allow me to say my piece, and then you may ask as many questions as you like."

Hermione frowned, but nodded. "O-okay."

"There is no need for you to be embarrassed about your curiosity," Severus said firmly. "It's natural to wonder about such things, and I won't pretend I haven't allowed my mind to wander in that area. I won't deny you if you wish to make such…explorations. However, there is one thing I must make clear to you. You don't have to do anything, or wear anything, to make me want you. Being around you does that well enough."

She felt the corners of her lips begging to lift and fought it fruitlessly, feeling a blush coming on. She shook her head of the urge to pounce him onto the bed, instead going for the thought that was circling around in her head.

"I don't think I'll ever understand why you decided I was a good choice," she teased, sidling closer.

He smirked. "Believe me when I say the feeling is completely mutual."

She giggled despite herself. "Aren't we a pair?"

She smiled up at him and let her fingers dance at one of his buttons, shifting closer to him.

"Indeed. Speaking of which, I spoke with Dumbledore," he said flatly, looking like he'd rather be having his toenails hexed green than discuss this.

"Oh." She blinked, trying to adjust to the change in mood. "What did he say?"

"We have permission to leave for the weekend," he said sourly. "And a lot more than that."

Hermione grinned. "Did he twinkle?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nonstop."

She reached up to kiss him briefly. "Excellent. I suppose we should start planning then."

"Planning what?" he retorted, frowning.

"The weekend, of course! It's not as though I can come to my parents' door with you tagging along." She shook her head. "Dad would have a heart attack. We may as well rent a hotel room. It'll be good backup in case he isn't so happy about us, and I doubt he'll want you to stay at our house even if he isn't displeased."

Severus sighed. "I thought we agreed we would tell them together."

"We will. It's just…I don't want to spring it on them the second we arrive," she replied anxiously. "I'd like to build them up to the idea. Besides, it might be best if I tell them before you come—they're liable to put the pieces together if you show up unexpectedly."

He gave her a look. "Your father is that suspicious?"

"Well…no. But Mum knows how I feel about you, and they have this nonverbal communication thing that…well, let's just say the time I tried to pass off a flu bug as a slight headache so Mum wouldn't keep me home from school, it didn't turn out so well for me."

Severus' smirk grew so large she felt a prickle of apprehension. She eyed him warily.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Plan it however you like. You can let me know on the way there."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now please tell me you don't intend to start making your first draft right this moment," he said, just a tad irritably.

She laughed, swinging her arms around his neck. "Nope. I don't plan on doing much of anything for a long, long time."

He gave her a satisfied smirk before he dipped down to take her breath away again.

* * *

"So, a weekend in a hotel room with Snape?" Harry prompted late the next day.

"Sounds like a really bad idea to me," Ron commented.

Hermione heaved a shaky sigh. "I'm not staying there _with_ him. I mean…unless Dad kicks me out." She felt the stirrings of panic and smashed them down, shaking her head. "Anyway, I'll be staying in my room at home. I don't imagine Dad would be very pleased with the notion of the two of us staying under his roof together."

"I'd be creeped out," Ron agreed, bobbing his head.

"How do you think they're going to react?" Harry asked concernedly.

"Mum shouldn't be a problem. She hardly even batted an eye when I told her I'm in love with him," she replied, fiddling with the binding of the book in her hands.

"And your dad?" he prompted when she was silent too long.

She sighed. "That's the thing…I don't know. On the one hand, he might be just as calm about it as Mum. He's always supported me, no matter what I do. But, on the other…he's overly-protective and he's definitely into tradition."

"Then he should be fine," Ron interjected. "A young woman marrying an older man is about as traditional as you get."

"I mean Muggle tradition," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Still…Snape being a bit closer in age to him might put him at ease," Harry said hopefully.

"Maybe. Or it might make him think he's a sick pervert," Hermione said miserably.

He swung his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure it'll be all right."

She nodded. "Yeah…I'm trying not to think about it, for the most part."

"Still freaking about the Masters trials?" Ron asked, shaking his head. "I don't know why. You're the brightest witch of the century, practically. It'll be a breeze."

"What do you mean, practically?" Ginny cut in mock-defensively as she joined them in threading through the throng of students. She punched him in the shoulder. "She is."

She smiled over at the redhead. "Hi, Ginny."

"Hey. Are you _still_ stressing about your trials next week?" she asked sternly. "Honestly, you need to let it go. You took your N.E.W.T.s in your sixth year, all right? It doesn't get tougher than that."

"Actually, Masters trials are a huge step up," Harry corrected. "The Transfigurations one is so long a wizard once passed out trying to finish it."

Hermione gulped, then stared at her friend. "How did you know that?"

He grinned, his cocky one. "You're not the only one who worries about your friends."

She smiled fondly at him, but Ginny spoke before she could say anything.

"Oh, way to go, Harry," she said sardonically. "Let's fill her mind with horrible scenarios and make her even more nervous than she needs to be."

"She doesn't need to be nervous at all," Ron added with a roll of his eyes.

"I think she needs to be a little," Ginny retorted. "It gives her an edge."

"Well, sor-_ree_ for reading up on the trials so she can be more prepared," Harry interrupted.

"You don't have to tell her the bad stuff!" she snapped back.

"Hey, you know what would really help?" Hermione cut in, putting her hands out to stop them as they walked. "If you could not argue. Thanks, that'd be lovely." She strode ahead, shaking her head.

"We're sorry," Harry said as he trotted to catch up.

"We just want you to feel okay about this," Ginny added, smiling.

"Yeah, we all want you to go in there feeling good so you come out feeling that way, too," he said, nodding decisively.

"Well, thanks, but I don't see how I can possibly be any more prepared than this, and I _still_ don't feel good about it," Hermione grumped, scowling at her feet.

"Maybe you just—"

"Hermione, you're like…the smartest person I know, and you don't even have to try," Ron interjected calmly. "You're going to be fine. I'm going to steal a snack from the kitchens. See you in Astronomy."

With that, he turned and waltzed off down the hallway, leaving the other three staring after him. Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief, eliciting a shocked look from Ginny.

"How is it he knows exactly what to say at the most random moments?" she asked Harry, who shrugged.

* * *

Ron hummed as he tore open the brown bag he always left in the kitchen with Dobby, for safe keeping. Normally he'd take one snack out of it a night, as a treat for doing his homework or not falling asleep during class or…it being a Thursday. But today he was extra hungry, and he'd bought quite a few treats in Hogsmeade that Saturday, so he could always restock.

He pulled out a treacle tart and smiled with delight at the deliciousness ahead.

"Hello, tasty goodness," he mumbled, and went to take the first delectable bite.

"Weasley!"

He nearly dropped the treat when he jumped, then stuffed it in the bag and scowled as he turned around. Snape was pounding down the corridor, bearing down on him with a thunderous scowl. _What now?_

"What are you doing wandering the halls this time of night?" Snape snapped.

Ron quickly crossed his arms behind him, hiding the bag. "I've got Astronomy tonight, sir."

That infamous brow arched high. "Last I checked, Astronomy Tower was not on the ground floor. I would have thought that at some point in the last seven years, you'd have realized that astronomy lessons require a view of the _sky_."

He chuckled despite himself, and the brow went higher. "So that's what those telescope things are for. And here I've been using them to spy on the Ravenclaw girls' dormitory."

Snape scowled, looking ready to deduct points, so Ron put a hand up to deflect his rage.

"Joking, sir. I'll head up immediately," he assured him, and turned to start up the stairs.

Before he could move any farther than the first step, Ron was struck with the image of Hermione's distressed expression from earlier that evening. When he'd told Snape about Crookshanks, she'd been awfully grateful for it—she needed Snape's support. Maybe that was just what she needed right now. He turned on the step to find Snape watching him suspiciously.

"She's really nervous," he said quietly. Snape stared, so he added, "I'm sure you know that already, but she's driving herself mad with it. Hardly ate anything at dinner, which generally means she's starting to feel sick-nervous."

Snape processed this in his usual silence, frowning deeply, as though in thought. Ron couldn't really read the man—he was a closed door. A steel one. But he took a jab at it anyway. After all, Snape didn't exactly look pleased, so he guessed it was a logical step.

"Hermione likes to protect people," Ron continued, drawing sharp black eyes again. "Which I'm sure you've noticed, but it goes deeper than house-elf rights and things like that. Sometimes she thinks she needs to protect the people she loves from her emotions. It's her way of reassuring them that everything is all right, even if it isn't. Even Harry has a hard time drawing her out when she decides to do that."

He took a deep breath—he couldn't talk on as little air as Hermione could—and waited for Snape to respond. But, as per usual, he only stared at him with that scowl riddled with distaste. Ron sighed.

"Thought you'd like to know," he said, then shrugged.

He turned to trot up the stairs and, to his everlasting surprise, he caught Snape nod in acknowledgement out of the corner of his eye. Huh. Maybe the bloke _did_ have a human bone somewhere in his body.

* * *

Hermione offered Severus another bright smile when she glanced up and found him still giving her that look. It was like he was trying to read her mind—without the Legilimency, since he knew better than that by now. She kept smiling to reassure him that everything was fine, but he'd just scowl and turn back to his book, ignoring Crookshanks when he nuzzled his hands.

Of course, she wasn't exactly fine—her stomach was roiling—but that was beside the point.

It was hard to concentrate on her packing list when he was acting so… peculiar. He'd hardly said two words to her since he came back from patrolling the hallways—except to ask how her day was. And when she'd returned the favor, he grunted and said, "Fine." Which she took to mean: it was pretty frustrating and he didn't want to talk about it.

Now, however…she was starting to think he might be angry with her. Which was bothersome, to say the least.

Crookshanks was even feeling it. He leapt off the bed and retreated into her lap, mewing at her as though his feelings had been deeply hurt. She was still greatly amused by his turnabout in his feelings for Severus—now he treated him with almost as much affection as he did her.

Still, he expected Severus to know exactly when it was Crookshanks and Hermione time. And, of course, to know precisely when he was supposed to rejoin them. Hermione almost chuckled to herself. _Cats_.

Much like Severus, a complete mystery in many ways. Hermione glanced his way again when she felt the familiar prickle of his stare at the back of her neck. His gaze traveled up and down her briefly, and when she smiled again, he turned back to his book. She sighed and set down her quill, absently stroking Crookshanks' head.

"Is everything okay?" she blurted, wincing at the volume shift in the still room.

Severus eyed her again. "Fine."

"Are you sure?"

He leveled an exasperated glower at her and she grimaced.

"Sorry, you just seem…never mind." She shook her head, turning back to her list.

He was silent for a moment and she tried to focus on her list, but then he interrupted.

"Seem what?" he prompted.

Hermione frowned at him. "I don't know. You've been quiet ever since you got here. And you keep giving me this look, like I did something that upset you."

He shook his head, just a fraction. "You haven't upset me."

She sighed, disbelieving. "Okay."

When he only looked at her, Hermione turned back to her list and focused on scratching behind Crookshanks' ear. _Let's see…arrangements will have to be made for Crooks. I'm sure Ginny will be fine with taking care of him. I should probably bring—_

"How much did you eat today?"

She jumped and Crookshanks dug his claws into her thigh reflexively. She winced and huffed, glancing back at Severus, who had set his book aside.

"I ate all three meals," she said truthfully.

"All," he echoed questioningly.

"Yes, all. I didn't eat much of my dinner, but I…wasn't very hungry," she retorted irritably. His mood was infecting hers, and she didn't like it.

"You felt ill," he said flatly, and that certainly didn't sound like a question.

She frowned at him. "I…perhaps a little, but I'm better now."

His eyebrows rose as he scanned her with a skeptical eye. She squirmed in her chair and Crookshanks shot her a displeased look.

"Are you certain?" Severus asked lowly, knowing it was the surest way to draw the truth from her.

"Yes, of course," she said hastily. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He heaved a sigh. "Because you seem tense, which suggests that you're either still feeling ill, or you're feeling anxious. Possibly both."

Hermione shook her head. "Neither. I'm fine."

She whipped back around to her list and scooted in her chair, determined to stay focused this time. In truth, she was having a hard time holding onto her wits and the very thought of food made her stomach flop until she felt certain she was going to vomit. After all, it wasn't any small thing—telling her parents about her relationship with Severus. She was nervous about her dad's reaction.

And then there were her Masters trials. She hadn't really thought about them much in the rush to finish her projects in time, and she'd thought she wouldn't have them until June, at least. McGonagall only informed her the other day that she'd been able to schedule her in early. All of her professors felt she was ready. Hermione did not.

The stress of the weekend and next week combined were making her so agitated she'd had difficulty keeping her dinner. It wasn't often that she found herself quite this anxious, but when she was, it was horrid. And trying to hide it from her friends and Severus was making it all the worse.

But things were going so well for them, and with Severus—she didn't want to wreck it. If she unloaded her problems on her friends, it would just drag them down. Besides, they had N.E.W.T.s to worry about. They didn't need extra stress.

And Severus had his own problems. She didn't need to dump hers on him. If he thought she was flipping out, he might have doubts about the stability of their relationship and that was the last thing she wanted. It was best to keep it to herself and try to get through it as best she could.

Hermione nearly leapt out of her chair when she felt Severus' hands move over her shoulders. Crookshanks had had enough of this jumping business and abandoned her to go clean himself. She clenched her fist around the quill and tried to steady her breathing. Severus paused before he spoke, letting her gather herself.

"Then why do I have Mr. Weasley approaching me in the corridors to inform me of what a difficult time you're having with all this?" he purred, massaging her tight muscles, coaxing them into relaxation.

She felt herself giving in to his soothing touch, despite herself, and her stomach gradually steadied.

"Ron told you…" she echoed, half in need for confirmation, half in disbelief.

"Indeed," he continued, ignoring the faraway tone in her voice. "He's under the impression that you would hide your anxiety in an effort to shield me from the difficulties in your life. But since I know you are adamant about the importance of openness in our relationship, I can't see how that's true."

Hermione drooped and rubbed her forehead, wishing she could erase the last few minutes from her mind. She should've expected his Slytherin nature to peek up. Severus' hands never left her shoulders, only moving down over her collarbone to smooth out the knots there. She was finding it a little hard to concentrate with him doing that—which she was sure was his intent.

"Fine. You win," she muttered, then added, louder, "I am nervous."

"About?" he prompted, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"Everything. The tests, telling my parents," Hermione admitted miserably.

His voice was softer when he spoke again, and his hands now rubbed down her back and arms.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" he asked, almost warily.

She broke away from his touch, needing the space to think. He watched her cross the room away from him and frowned, brow arching high. Hermione took the deep breaths she needed and wrung her hands, preparing to spill it.

"I-I was afraid." She swallowed. "If you knew just how nervous I am, you'd attribute it all to anxiety about telling my parents, and then you might think I didn't want to, and then you might wonder about how secure our relationship is, and I didn't want—"

"Hermione, I do expect a certain amount of human emotion from you," he interrupted, shaking his head ruefully. "In fact, I expect quite a lot of that. Feeling nervous about admitting our relationship to your parents is only natural. And becoming this nervous seems only natural for you, considering that a simple non-answer from me sent you hiding in the library stacks for several months.

"I only hoped we'd reached a place where you no longer felt the need to hide from me."

Hermione could only stare at him for several moments. Where had _that_ come from? He'd never talked about her absence before. _Nor have you hidden anything from him since a month ago_. She winced at that thought and cleared her throat, trying to gather herself. What was she supposed to say to this?

She hadn't thought she felt the need to hide from him anymore…. So what was her problem now?

"I…I don't," she breathed, meeting his eyes reluctantly.

Severus paused, looking pleased with this answer, then he took a breath and said, "Then stop."

She offered the smallest of smiles to him before taking the few steps across the room to him and melting into his embrace. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, offering all the safety and comfort she needed. For the first time that day, Hermione heaved a truly contented sigh and sank happily into a night of Severus' calming arms.

* * *

Crookshanks was bored. This never led to anything good, he knew. Usually he'd do something to alleviate it, and then his mistress would get very, very angry. She hardly ever yelled at him, but he didn't like it when her face got all red and she ignored him. It wasn't happy.

He tapped his tail impatiently and glanced at one of the high windows. It was still very bright out, so neither Hermione nor the Savior would be back anytime soon. His ears pricked up as he caught the sound of the crazy portrait singing out in the hall. Crookshanks shook his head. _Freak_.

Normally he'd be so sleepy from his nighttime activities that he wouldn't get a chance to be bored. Or, if he wasn't asleep, he'd play with his toys. But last night they hadn't kicked him out of the room to do their weird thing—mostly they just cuddled and slept, and Crookshanks lay on Hermione's hip and she stroked his back until she fell asleep. It had been quite peaceful, and Crookshanks fell asleep despite himself.

Now he was feeling hyperactive. He'd already eaten, drank his fill of water, played with all his toys—his magical mouse one twice—and he'd cleaned himself three times. He was officially bored.

He tapped his tail in thought. Well, if he did anything, he'd probably get ignored again. And he certainly didn't want that. Especially since it looked as though he and his mum would be going on a trip—and soon. It wouldn't do to have her upset with him. Too bad she wasn't there to play with him.

_Now there's an idea…._

_

* * *

_

Crookshanks couldn't pick up Hermione's scent anywhere. He was able to find it on the way out the door and down the corridor, but when he passed the fat portrait, he lost it in the mass of other smells—although he was fairly certain he caught a whiff of that Harry fellow. It would always be nice to visit him, but he was looking for his mum, and he'd already lost a lot of time just trying to figure out how to get out.

The crazy portrait had yelled after him as soon as he swung the knob and loped down the corridor, but Crookshanks ignored him. After all, what could he possibly do?

Now he was somewhere around the third floor, but he hadn't found his mistress' scent yet. He sat in the hall, invisible to the students rushing to their next class. He was grateful it was so heavily populated, or else they might've caught him like the Screamer did that one time. He licked his leg in irritation and scowled at the students. Where was Hermione?

One of the students' robes nearly smacked him in the face and he hissed, backing away rapidly. And then he caught a different, equally familiar scent. He perked up and loped down the hallway—maybe the Savior was with Hermione!

* * *

Ginny sighed and clenched her fist, then extended her fingers, which cracked in succession. This essay was already as long as her torso, what more did he want? She tried to be a little understanding with Snape, but sometimes he was just too ridiculous to understand. Only Hermione could love that man.

Ginny flapped her hand to loosen it and picked up her quill again, focusing on her writing again. The rest of the students' quills scribbled away, and she spied Luna accidentally smacking herself in the face with the feather more than once. She grinned to herself and focused her eyes on the paper. What else did she know about grass root?

She got another two inches down when she heard a little gasp, followed by a few titters. She shook it off when she saw that no one ahead of her was laughing, but then the sound slowly grew until several people were trying to muffle chuckles and avoid Snape's glare. And he _was_ glaring. Until he caught sight of what the students were chattering and laughing about.

Then he looked a little mortified.

That was when Ginny caught sight of the end of an orange tail. She clapped her hand over her mouth when a familiar fluffy creature trotted up the dais and immediately latched itself to a black pant leg. The laughter rose again when Crookshanks plastered himself to the discomfited professor's leg, swiping his whole body along it.

Snape scowled at the students, but they weren't looking at his face. Ginny had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing when he eyed the Kneazle with panic in his eyes. Crookshanks was purring loudly enough for her to hear it under the hum of laughter, and he renewed a rub. Snape tried to nudge him away, but Crookshanks only renewed his efforts.

Alicia let out a shriek of laughter when Snape scooted his chair back and Crookshanks followed. The rest of the students started roaring with laughter as well, apparently assuming it was safe now that Alicia had broken the cautious giggles.

Ginny exchanged a glance with Luna, who smiled knowingly.

"SILENCE!" Snape bellowed, and several hands clapped over mouths.

Snape looked ready to commit murder, so Ginny hesitantly raised her hand after Luna nodded in her direction. Snape scowled down at the cat in disgust until he caught the movement, and then his eyes snapped to Ginny.

"_What_?" he snapped, teeth grinding.

"I…sir, I-I think that's Hermione's cat. I guess he—" she said quietly.

"I'm _aware_ of whose creature this is!" Snape snarled, seething.

Ginny cleared her throat in the silence that followed. "Yeah…well, Luna and I can return him to her, if you like, sir."

For an instant, he almost looked like he was going to grin at her, so grateful was he. But it was gone in that instant and Ginny wondered if she imagined it. He gestured dismissively.

"Fine, get it out of here," he growled, and Ginny noted that Crookshanks seemed completely unfazed by all the yelling. "And shut the damned door on your way out."

* * *

"Well, that was exciting," Ginny commented to Luna as they made their way up the stairs.

Luna nodded. "I've never seen Crookshanks warm up to anyone that way."

"He liked you when you met him," she countered, frowning.

"Liked is one thing. Mauled my leg is entirely different."

Ginny laughed, so Luna smiled and stroked Crookshanks' back. Ginny heard a fresh purr start up in her ear and scratched his neck a little. He swung his tail idly over her arm and peered over her shoulder at the corridor behind them.

"You know, you do have a point. Crookshanks doesn't particularly care for anyone unless Hermione does, and even then it's a little iffy," she said thoughtfully. "Like Ron."

Luna smiled. "It's because Hermione is with Snape."

Ginny practically screeched to a halt and she found herself gaping at the blonde. Crookshanks squirmed his displeasure and she stroked him absently.

"For certain?" Ginny asked, aghast.

"Hermione hasn't told me herself," she replied, shrugging airily.

"So, you've just suspected, too?" she prompted, relieved.

It wasn't that she didn't like Luna, but if Hermione had told her before she told Ginny, well…best friend jealousy was never a fun ride. They kept walking while Luna answered.

"It's been fairly obvious," Luna said slowly. "After all, when else has Hermione been so happy?"

Hard to counter that. Ginny just smiled at her as they mounted another set of stairs.

* * *

"So Loki and I think your cat has learned how to turn doorknobs," Ginny told Hermione as they came up from dinner that evening.

Hermione blanched. "He's what?"

Ginny shot a grin her way. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but he broke out today and kind of came to my classroom. I was going to tell you at dinner, but Draco wanted to talk to me about his mother's latest counter to my mother's latest argument." She shook her head. "I don't understand why we must be their messengers…but anyway, Luna and I brought him back up for you, and we put a ward on your doorknob."

She heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I-I don't know what I'm going to do with him. Maybe I _should_ take him with me this weekend…."

"No, don't worry about it. I've got it covered," she said hastily, smiling. "You go and have a restful weekend with your parents. You deserve a good break before your trials."

Hermione offered a pinched smile as they arrived at Loki's portrait. He let them in and Hermione went to gather her suitcases, as well as giving Crookshanks a goodbye pat and a light scolding for his little adventure. Ginny watched, biting her lip, but she just couldn't hold it in any longer when Hermione started scratching things off one of her famous lists.

"So…Crooks really seems to like Snape," she said casually.

Hermione froze immediately and, although she only stayed this way for a second, Ginny could see the shock fading and those cogs churning to come up with a reply.

"Oh?" she said lamely.

Ginny smiled. "Yeah, he waltzed right into the classroom and then…plastered himself to his leg. It was hilarious—Snape was livid." A grin.

"Oh. Well…m-maybe he liked how he smells," Hermione replied, but Ginny could hear the amusement in her voice, as well as the panic.

"Maybe." Ginny toyed with one of her pillows, flipping it around as she thought of what to say next. "So…how does Snape feel about you going to your parents' this weekend?"

Apparently this was a push too far. Hermione whipped around and eyed Ginny, frowning deeply. Ginny couldn't help the grin that took over her features, and Hermione immediately deflated.

"You know," she said quietly.

Ginny beamed. "Now I do."

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "I…I'm sorry."

"What for?" She frowned in confusion.

"For not telling you sooner. I was going to tell you myself, but things just kept coming up and…then the boys found out and it was a lot to—"

"Wait. When you say 'the boys', you mean…?" Ginny inquired, narrowing her eyes.

Hermione smiled a tad. "Harry and Ron."

She sighed with relief. "Good. It's okay. I get it. I know I can be a lot to take sometimes, and since I've been one of your most bouncy, not to mention vocal, supporters, I can't really blame you for keeping me out of the loop for a bit."

She laughed. "You're a good friend."

Ginny grinned cheekily. "Of course I am. Which is why I'll remind you that it's eight o'clock, and your Portkey activates in about…oh, fifteen minutes. I'm sure Snape is waiting."

Hermione leapt out of her chair and snatched her suitcase, muttering to herself about how she wished she had more time. Ginny looked on in amusement, assuring her that she and Crookshanks would be just fine over the weekend. Hermione was almost out the door when she rushed back to give Ginny a long hug, and the redhead squeezed her back before smiling as she watched her fly out the door.

"Good luck," Ginny said to herself, and smiled down at a confused Crookshanks.


End file.
